


years we lost

by MermaidMarie



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-The Burning Maze (Trials of Apollo), sometimes people are just Not Dead, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 137,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24829702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMarie/pseuds/MermaidMarie
Summary: If he’d been in a hazy limbo these past calm years, then he could trace how the clock started ticking again to this moment. When he saw that face, those eyes, that person he was sure he’d never see again.It's been a few years since anything notable happened in their lives. Nico was mostly growing accustomed to the calm of it all, after spending so long trying and failing to fix one of the worst things that had ever happened to him. Until he catches a glimpse of someone in a reflection. He's really trying to not hope for anything.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Leo Valdez, Nico di Angelo/Jason Grace, Past!Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 185
Kudos: 278





	1. on an unremarkable day

**Author's Note:**

> A few things:  
> 1\. I'm taking a loose-ish approach to canon, partially just because it's been a while since I've read the books. So like, spoilers for The Burning Maze (and all the books leading to it, I suppose), but canon is a suggestion.  
> 2\. I currently have no idea how long this is going to be.  
> 3\. Hi, hello, this is my first fic for this pairing.

It happened, as with many life changing moments, on an unremarkable day.

The rain was coming down in sheets as people walked with their heads down, the sounds of water on pavement drowning out the crowds that would’ve been typical for that hour of the afternoon. The glistening lights were muted in all that gray. His jacket was soaked through, the dark denim heavy against his skin. It was unusual weather for that time of year in California—all that heavy, relentless rain, just this side of a storm.

The few people out tried to stick close to the walls lining the sidewalks for the bit of shelter that it offered. Wind whistled through the spaces between the buildings. Water was flowing down the street, pressed against the curb, an oily rainbow sheen in the ripples. There was something to be said for days like that, he thought. There were a couple people this kind of weather reminded him of, in strange, twisting ways.

He might not have seen anything at all if he hadn’t looked up at the exact right moment. He could’ve gone on with his day, the gloomy weather of the week a mild inconvenience, the hints of lingering bitter nostalgia just a memory. It would’ve been easy to overlook.

The world had been so quiet lately. Years, even, of a gentle kind of nothingness that was comforting in its mundane patterns. It had… settled. There could only be so many chaotic trials to burn through before even the most powerful forces needed to take a breath.

The calm was a welcome relief. Some days, it felt like more than he deserved. It was certainly more than he’d ever dared to hope for.

It was a split second—the flash of an image in a reflection, a face in a window across the street. He looked up just in time to have that moment burned into his eyes. He couldn’t unsee it, even as he talked himself out of believing it in the seconds that followed.

He told himself it wasn’t possible, and the moment was fleeting enough. He shook his head, trying to brush it off. It was nothing, it _had_ to be nothing, because he couldn’t go back to any semblance of a sliver of uncertainty.

He remembered those weeks, _months,_ of sleepless nights. He remembered how it ate at him, he remembered how close he’d gotten to destroying himself over that bit of stubborn hope that had sat like a stone in his chest. _(Because if he wasn’t sure, then there was hope, right? There was a chance, if he wasn’t sure, a chance to—)_

He’d had to let go, he’d had to step away and tell himself that he’d done enough and there was nothing left. He couldn’t carry it forever.

And then, today, some unremarkable Tuesday in April, barely glancing up…

It clutched at him like a phantom wound, like the memory of an injury long healed. Like the nightmares he still got sometimes, like the anxieties that paralyzed him once in a while, unexpected sounds getting at him.

There was no way it was real. A trick of the light, of the soft mist.

Nico was no stranger to seeing ghosts in the shadows, though this one would have been a first.

If he’d been in a hazy limbo these past calm years, then he could trace how the clock started ticking again to this moment. When he saw that face, those eyes, that _person_ he was sure he’d never see again.

In the moment, the vision was gone before he had time to realize he’d stopped breathing. It was his imagination, it _had_ to be. He told himself to get over it, to let it go, to move on—things he’d told himself a thousand times already, that he was pretty sure he’d listened to, in any case.

But, as much as he tried to push it away, he knew what he saw. He couldn’t lie to himself forever, and the damage was done. That stubborn stone of hope in the depths of his heart sparked awake again.

For now, though, he ignored it and kept walking.

Nico slammed the door shut behind him, kicking his shoes off and peeling his jacket from his skin. He shivered, feeling soaked through to the bone. He liked weather like this better from inside.

“Well, don’t you look like a drowned kitten,” Leo called out from the living room couch, far too cheerily.

“Shut up,” Nico grumbled. He pulled at his shirt. It felt less like he’d gotten caught in the rain and more like he’d fallen into a lake.

“Did you forget your umbrella _again?”_

Leo sounded altogether too delighted by the whole thing.

“Maybe. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

The laughter that followed made it clear that yeah, Leo was enjoying this _way_ too much.

“Glad you’re having a good time,” Nico said dryly.

Leo grinned. “Gotta find the bright side somewhere, right?”

“Evidently.”

“Lighten up,” Leo replied. “Yo, you go take a warm shower so you don’t die, and I’ll make you hot chocolate, cool?”

Nico could admit that there were bright sides to find when it came to living with Leo. They worked out well enough as roommates, in any case. Nico was significantly more likely to remember to eat with Leo around. And the hot chocolate he made _was_ really good.

He took off his wet clothes, abandoning them on the bathroom floor and climbing into the shower. The hot water and the steam eased the tension that had been building in his shoulders and he felt the warmth returning to his bones.

He sighed, hanging his head forward to let the water run through his hair.

He told himself he wasn’t going to think about what he’d seen. Or rather, what he _thought_ he’d seen, because there wasn’t a chance in Hades it had been real. He told himself to drop it, to move on, to think about _literally anything else._

His mind caught on that image.

How could he have even seen the blue of his eyes from a blurry reflection across the street? It wasn’t possible, no matter how it real it felt.

But he _couldn’t_ stop thinking about it.

Because what if, right?

Stranger things had happened. Stranger things like his very own roommate. Stranger things like his own existence in this time period.

That was the problem with living in such an impossible world. It became excruciatingly hard to accept the awful things you couldn’t fix. Because if gods were real, if magic was real, if you had freaking _superpowers,_ how could you expect yourself to understand when something heart-wrenchingly horrible happened and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it?

So, much as he kept telling himself to drop the hope, his stubborn, traitorous heart kept beating to the sound of _maybe._

\---

_It was an interesting thing—to have Jason Grace be so excited after Nico agreed to stick around, only for Jason to be the one to leave. It left a bitter taste in the back of Nico’s mouth as he tried to process it._

_Jason had seemed so happy. It had caught Nico off guard already, to have Jason rambling about all the things they could do together—like eating together instead of at their own empty tables. Nico had this shy, hopeful image of them becoming closer friends. Some distant daydream, now, after Jason had managed to make himself important in Nico's life, only to leave like everyone else._

_Nico was trying to be cool about it, but it stung._

_He hung around the Zeus cabin, watching as Jason packed, sitting cross-legged on the floor by the door._

_They’d had a few too-short weeks of sitting at the same table together at the dining hall, of hanging around each other's cabins. Nico had been too uncomfortable to head over to the Zeus table at first, half-worried that Jason hadn’t really meant it in the first place. But Jason hadn’t hesitated before heading over to the Hades table, with a big, easy smile, like this was all so normal for them._

_Nico really didn’t want to go back to eating alone._

_“Just like that, huh?” Nico said when he couldn’t hold it in anymore. The bitterness was practically dripping from his words._

_Jason stilled but he didn’t turn to look at Nico. His shoulders curled a little, his head dipping down as he looked at the shirt he’d been folding. Nico immediately felt a little guilty for his tone, but he couldn’t exactly take it back. He’d meant it. He was hurt._

_“It’s not like I’ll never be back,” Jason said quietly. He sounded like he felt guilty, too. Or at least like he had some lingering regret about it._

_“Right, you’ll visit for holidays,” Nico replied dryly. “Or more likely, the next big life-threatening crisis.”_

_“That’s not fair.”_

_“Neither is you taking off like this.”_

_Jason sighed. He put the shirt down without finishing folding it, laying it delicately on his bed. Then he sunk to the floor, leaning against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him._

_He wouldn’t look at Nico._

_“You’ll be fine,” Jason said. “You’ve been doing fine. And you’ve got Will here.”_

_Right. Will Solace. Who seemed nice enough, who seemed to genuinely like Nico, who was getting better at coaxing Nico into feeling like he was actually a part of things around here._

_But Will wasn’t Jason._

_“You told me not to leave,” Nico said. It was the simplest way he could try to convey his hurt. Because, yeah, it kind of sucked that Jason had wanted him to stay, had asked him to, and Nico had naïvely assumed that meant Jason wanted him around. That it meant Jason wanted to be his friend or something._

_Jason leaving now soured that initial hope Nico had felt, because now, he couldn’t shake the idea that Jason had never genuinely liked him at all, and that he was just fulfilling some heroic need to reach out to the pathetic loner._

_It wasn’t a flattering thought._

_Jason glanced over at Nico, with the slightest tentative smile. “Yeah. And I’m glad you didn’t.”_

_Nico raised an eyebrow, unimpressed._

_“You seem… happier,” Jason went on carefully. “It’s nice. I’m glad you stuck around. I’m glad I got to see it.”_

You can’t be that glad, _Nico thought to himself, uncharitably._

 _“So what happens if I tell_ you _not to leave?” Nico said bluntly. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest to keep his hands from shaking. It was just about the most revealing thing he could bear to say, and the words hurt to get out._

_It hurt more when Jason met his gaze, looking sad and sorry and a little bit hopeless._

_“Nico—” he started, but Nico wasn’t sure he wanted to hear any of it._

_“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor._

_He could’ve just left to begin with. He probably should’ve just left, saved everyone the trouble. Maybe he’d never feel like he belonged anywhere, and he was just kidding himself with this._

_“I’m sorry,” came Jason’s helpless reply._

_“Of course you are,” Nico said with a sigh. Everyone was always so sorry, weren’t they?_

_“Nico…” Jason took a breath. “I mean… If Leo is lost out there somewhere—”_

_“Yeah, I know. I get that.” Nico paused. “And what about after?”_

_There was a long, vacant silence. Nico felt like it went on forever._

_“There’s just—there’s a school, in California, I…”_

_“Right.”_

_“I’m not…”_

_“I get it. Send a postcard every once in a while.”_

_Jason seemed to shrink a little at the sharp edge of Nico’s tone._

_Nico wished, a little bit, that he could put aside his own hurt and understand where Jason was coming from. But first he had to trust that Jason cared about him and wasn’t trying to abandon him, and well, he… didn’t. Not in that moment. It was hard enough to believe that Jason had accepted him in the first place._

_Maybe he’d been looking for a moment where he could be proven right, that he just wasn’t worth being friends with, but Jason gave him that opening pretty damn quick._

_Yeah. It stung._

_“You could come with,” Jason blurted out suddenly._

_Nico turned his head sharply. “You can’t be serious,” he said, half-angry at the suggestion._

_“No, really,” Jason continued, leaning forward a little. He ran an agitated hand over his hair. “I mean—you’d totally be able to help, it would just make sense, right? You’re a child of Hades, so like, you can shadowtravel, and… Just, searching for Leo after he_ died _, right? That’s your area of expertise. I mean… You could… You could come with.”_

_“Come with you,” Nico echoed in a flat tone._

_Jason shifted towards him, his eyes wide. “Yeah! I think it would work, okay? I mean—”_

_“You and Piper,” Nico added meaningfully._

_That took some of the energy out of Jason’s demeanor. He leaned back again. “You could,” he tried again._

_“I really couldn’t,” Nico said, just barely resisting scoffing._

_Go on a quest with Jason and Piper? Have to watch them be in love, have Jason melting at her smiles, as they asked Nico to use his powers to try and find someone that Nico had already looked for? Deal with the disappointment on their faces as they realize that Nico, truly, has exhausted all the options he had for finding Leo already? Feel like an unwanted, unwelcome third wheel, when he hadn’t even known Leo that well and he’d barely talked to Piper at all?_

_There were just aspects to the concept that sounded like some painful echoes of what Nico had already been through with Percy and Annabeth, as different as the circumstances were._

_Nico pushed away the comparison between Percy and Jason. It wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be._

_“Okay,” Jason said. He looked down at his palms for a moment, frowning a little. When he looked back at Nico, he had this sincere, determined glint in his eye that Nico had seen maybe a thousand times at that point. “But can you believe me when I say that I_ want _you to come? I want you there. At least as much as you want me to stay. Can you trust that?”_

_Nico hated Jason, a little bit, for knowing what the right thing to say was. It wasn’t fair that he could do that, especially not when Nico was trying to be mad at him so he didn’t have to be sad and scared of losing what felt like the only friend he really had._

_When Jason said it like that, with that earnest determination, it was hard not to believe his words. Jason had a way of laying his honesty out there when he really wanted to._

_Nico also hated Jason for looking at him like he really wanted an answer. Nico would’ve preferred it be a rhetorical question, so he didn’t have to say it._

_“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Nico said. He shifted further away from Jason, considering the pros and cons of bolting out the door. “Okay.”_

_Jason looked relieved, offering a small smile. If Nico didn’t know any better, he’d say it looked like the smile was wavering out of nervousness._

_“Thanks,” Jason said._

_“What for?” Nico replied, baffled._

_“Trusting me.”_

_The way Jason said it made it sound like Nico had offered him some rare, precious gift._

_Nico bit at his lower lip nervously. If Jason could be sincere, so could he, right? Even if Jason really did have to go—Nico didn’t want to lose him. Not after everything._

_“I’m just…” Nico started, his voice faltering. He looked down at the ground in front of him. “I’m gonna miss you. I guess.”_

_Nico could almost feel the warmth of Jason’s smile._

_“You are?”_

_Nico scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, don’t let it get to your head, Grace.”_

_There was a long enough pause that Nico finally glanced over, a little apprehensively. Jason was looking at him with that warm smile, those kind eyes. His smile only grew at Nico met his gaze._

_“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Jason said._

_Nico rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling a little now, too._

\---

Nico tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

It had been years since Tartarus, since the jar, since Gaea. Years since he’d nearly shadowtraveled himself into oblivion, years since they’d all seen Leo sacrifice himself for the world, for the prophecy, for Jason.

It had even been almost a full year since Nico had any notable encounters with smaller monsters while going about his life. (Leo claimed that monsters understood that being in your twenties was hard enough without also being a demigod on top of that, and they eased up accordingly. Which was absolute nonsense, but Nico accepted much of Leo’s nonsense these days. It was easier than trying to argue with him.)

Despite the relative safety of his current life and the ease of it all, the nightmares were still a common enough occurrence. Nico supposed there was no way to go through everything he and his friends had gone through and emerge unscathed.

Nico groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he stared up at the ceiling.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that tonight was one of those nights. He’d spent altogether too much time that day thinking of a distinctly forbidden subject. He did better, _slept_ better, when he kept his focus elsewhere.

He never had a chance at sleep or sanity if his mind was always wandering to—

Nico sighed and pulled himself out of bed. There was no point trying to sleep anymore, it just wasn’t happening.

He headed to the kitchen.

There were already two cups of coffee set out.

“Mm. ‘Bout that time, huh?” Leo said, smiling tiredly from where he sat at the kitchen counter. He pushed one of the cups towards Nico as he took a seat.

Nico sighed. “What, do you coordinate your nightmares with mine?” he said, grumbling just a little.

Leo’s grin brightened way too much for that hour of the morning. “Hey, you ever hear about how girl roommates sync up their _cycles?_ This is just our version of that. It’s a bonding experience.”

Nico wrinkled his nose and shot Leo a glare. “Don’t be weird.”

“But it makes me feel so close to you.”

“You’re the worst.”

“And yet you keep me around, even after all this time.” Leo gestured vaguely. “That, my friend, sounds like your own fault.”

Nico rolled his eyes.

Leo softened a little, his expression growing more serious.

“What was it this time?” he asked.

“Tartarus,” Nico replied. He hesitated before adding, “And Jason.”

Leo just nodded.

“What about you?”

“My mom. My aunt. The worst of the foster parents.” Leo shrugged one shoulder, half-smiling. “Hey, my subconscious is just spicing things up, y’know? Dreaming about the regular trauma rather than the apocalyptic shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They settled into a familiar, comfortable silence.

The nice thing about being friends with Leo was that Nico never had to hear the empty platitudes from him. There was never any false attempt at comfort between the two of them. They were both bad enough with emotions as it was.

They had a routine, more or less. They’d lived together long enough by that point to develop an understanding. All either of them ever really wanted in those moments was to not be alone. They could do without the pity and the words of comfort.

There was a quiet simplicity in how they dealt together. 

“McDonalds opens in an hour,” Leo said.

“Thank the gods. I’m starving.”

It was a strange path, how they got here.

Nico and Leo had similar trajectories, in the end. They’d gotten a taste of being well-adjusted, Nico at Camp Half-Blood and Leo at the Waystation in Indiana. They’d started building these lives around themselves where it had, after all that time, felt like they’d found places they belonged.

It hadn’t lasted long. Just a few short months before Nico and Leo were both, separately, systematically destroying their own plans in favor of following the latest crisis until they almost destroyed themselves, too.

Which is to say that after Jason died, neither of them accepted it.

One too many days trying to fix the unfixable, it had become clear to them both that they weren’t going to last much longer. It was either stop or die.

The only way Nico had been able to give up was the fact that Leo did it with him.

It had been a few years since then.

Nico was on his way to graduating from college this semester. He’d taken a roundabout way to get there, as it seemed to happen for all demigods that chose to pursue any academics, but he was all set to get his degree, double majoring in History and Chemistry.

Leo had opted to get a job as a mechanic. He had pretty steady work and a space to pursue his own engineering daydreams on his off days.

Nico had never been convinced that “happy” was in the cards for demigods in general, but it was good enough, at a certain point.

Every once in a while, Leo got called in to Camp Half-Blood to deal with some issue, or Nico got summoned by Hades to run an errand. Those tasks had gotten few and far between lately, since the world hadn’t been on fire in a while.

They’d ended up in California, in the Bay Area, not far from Camp Jupiter. It made it easier to catch up with the people who were still around.

\---

_This was how it started—the first ache that sent him spiraling._

_It happened, as with many life changing moments, on an unremarkable day._

_He was at Camp Half-Blood—what else was new? He’d been content enough. He had a cabin to himself, which gave him plenty of space when he needed it. He was eating meals with the Apollo kids, thanks to Will Solace. Everything was…_

_Well, everything was fine, wasn’t it? Birds chirping, sun shining, the whole deal. It seemed like things might really be okay. He’d slipped into believing he had a chance at some semblance of happiness._

_Which was, in the end, his first mistake._

_There was nothing wrong with his life—Nico would’ve been the first to tell you that, those days. He was feeling hopeful, the energy returning to his life. He wasn’t sure what his future was going to look like, but for the first time in a heartbreakingly long time, he was at least curious to see where he was going to end up. Maybe it wasn’t perfect—maybe he’d settled too fast in the first thing that felt uncomplicated. Who could blame him? After everything, uncomplicated seemed like the most he could dream about._

_Here’s what happens when someone Nico loves dies: Nico hurts._

_It’s a burning, piercing feeling. Unmistakable. It sucks all the oxygen from his lungs, leaving him panting and panicking. It leaves this ache of hopeless certainty in its wake, a painful loss, a gap in his chest he can feel with every frantic breath._

_There have been exactly two times that someone Nico loved died and the feeling of it wasn’t quite right, leaving him with a lingering confusion, a cloudiness rather than a sharp, grim truth._

_Leo Valdez was the first one._

_Then it was Jason Grace._

_Both times, Nico felt an itch at the back of his neck, a small sliver to grasp onto. The pain was there, the ache no less hurtful for its lack of clarity. But he came out of those moments feeling like there should be something in his hands—like he was missing something crucial that he needed to find._

_When it happened with Leo, Nico hadn’t known what to make of the feeling. It was too new and blurry to give him any clear sign of what it meant._

_But then…_

_Leo Valdez, impossible in every area of his existence, came back._

_So the second time that Nico had that feeling? That sense of distinct wrongness in a death?_

_Well._

_It was an unremarkable day. Nico had taught some classes that morning, a little more impatient from lack of sleep. He had lunch with the Apollo kids—with Will. He complained about the weather—_

_“The sun is just so bright,” he’d said, something close to a whine._

_Will had laughed, his sunny laugh, and replied—“Only you, Nico, could complain about nice weather.”_

_“It’s gonna give me a migraine.”_

_“It’s a good thing you’re dating a healer.”_

_His cheeks reddening, Nico had brushed him off. “I just need some rest.”_

_With a sigh, a kiss on the cheek, he’d left right after eating to get back to his cabin to take a nap. He didn’t love napping in the afternoon—it always felt like his dreams were more vivid when the sun was out. But he’d tossed and turned so much the night before that the risk of nightmares seemed to be worth it. If he woke up in a cold sweat, well, he’d deal. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to._

_The moment the door closed behind him, he fell to his knees, dizzy._

_He didn’t understand what was happening for a frozen, endless moment. Later, he’d look back at that moment that never really ended with a bitter kind of longing—the last moment, in his mind, that a soft, content life seemed within his reach._

_His mouth moved faster than his mind—_

_Choking out a breathless “Jason—” before he even processed what was happening to him._

_His first coherent thought was—_ No, not him, please, please, not him— _which was frustrating, even as he could feel his own vehemence in the words. Where was that pleading voice even coming from? He had barely seen or spoken to Jason in months—why did this have to feel more like the end of the world than the war itself had?_

_But there was no use wondering or denying or reasoning—the fact of the matter was that the very second that it hit Nico that this awful, biting pain was because something happened to Jason, he felt all the things that had seemed so good about his life flake away._

_What was he doing here, playing camp counselor, trying to exist in some quiet, content space? Who the fuck was he kidding, right? They were demigods. Quiet was clearly never an option—if Jason hadn’t earned the calm, then Nico certainly hadn’t._

_He didn’t know how long he was there on his knees, just within the threshold. Long enough to realize that his eyes were dry and stinging from tears he hadn’t had the presence of mind to notice._

_And still—_

Not him, not him, not him, please, anyone listening, Zeus, Hera, Dad, _not him—_

_As the air returned to Nico’s lungs, he felt that same strange cloudiness that he’d felt before. He recognized it now—it was the feeling of someone dying without reaching the Underworld. Like Leo. Soul severed, life ended, but without the clutching loss._

_With Leo, Nico hadn’t known what it could mean until Leo Valdez had shown up back at camp with a smirk and a joke._

_Nico shut his eyes, trying to breathe._

_It was fine—it was okay, it had to be okay. He grasped for that uncertainty and clung to it. He didn’t have to accept this—he wasn’t going to accept this._

\---

Nico told himself it was pure curiosity, nothing more.

He waited three days, like that would prove that he wasn’t acting on that old, stale desperation that he’d buried. Three days until the rain let up, three days until he couldn’t quite take it anymore. Brushing off what he’d seen had wholly, completely, failed to work.

He stood on the street corner, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, just sort of facing the breeze. Hoping the wind held some answers for him, in some small, childish way.

It was around the same time of day that he’d seen the reflection _(he still couldn’t bring himself to think of the name, to really give voice to this)._ He’d dipped out of his class early—not that it really mattered, it was an elective just to fill out the last credits he needed for his degree. And it was a Religious Studies seminar called “Death & The Afterlife,” which Leo had understandably fully lost his mind over when Nico had mentioned it. He could stand to skip a class or two.

There were more people around, now that the sun was peering lazily through the thin layer of overcast. The weather wasn’t exactly _nice,_ but it was okay. Certainly more tolerable that the torrential downpour they’d been dealing with that season.

He leaned against the brick wall of a corner store, watching the window of the coffeeshop across the street, letting his eyes catch on the crowd when he saw flashes of blond hair.

Nico had tried for the better part of his life to be a cynic. He’d wanted, almost desperately, to lose all faith, to become fully jaded. He managed to pretend well enough to convince people he had. He played the part as best he could, and there were people who bought into the act. Who saw him as cold, standoffish, suspicious. There were people who’d never know that there was more to him than that.

He’d wanted it, in a bitterly resentful way. There was a part of him, the part that was angry and unforgiving and spiteful, that hoped that people would fail him enough times that he’d never trust anyone again. If he was cynical and jaded enough, after all, he could never be disappointed.

It never worked, not really. There was always a version of him, deep down, that clung to any and all signs of something better. A stubborn, hopeless optimist that wanted to be trusted, wanted to be liked, wanted to be happy. Wanted to _deserve_ to be happy.

In the quiet lull of what life had become, Nico hadn’t paid much attention either way. He was too tired to be angry, too lost to be hopeful, too resigned to want much of anything at all. Going through the motions had to be enough because he couldn’t handle more than that.

And yet. Here he was. Lingering on a street corner, where he’d had some kind of sad grief-hallucination, trying to avoid acknowledging the hope that had resurfaced.

People were never supposed to be certain about death. Nico relied too much on the certainty he’d been born with, and that’s what nearly destroyed him in the end. The loss of that certainty was something beyond what he was capable of managing.

Weeks, months, sleepless nights, running himself ragged. Searching for that certainty.

He never found it.

Which was why he was here, the painful reminder that he didn’t _know_ what had happened. After all this time, he still didn’t know.

He waited an hour.

He waited two.

_Come on, Nico, you know better than this. Haven’t you learned anything by now?_

He cursed to himself under his breath, angry that he still had this naïve side. It was supposed to be over. He was supposed to stop _doing_ this.

He sighed, pushing away from the brick building. He hesitated one last time, looking back across the street.

Nothing. Of course there was nothing. Why would he expect anything else?

\---

_The first thing Nico had done after feeling Jason’s death was go to Hades’ palace in the Underworld._

_He doubted that it would help, but he needed to do it anyway. His dad had been, admittedly, better than most of the other gods at that whole being-a-parent thing, and he cared about Nico in his own way, but he was still a god. Which meant that his understanding of what it was like to be mortal, what it was like to be a demigod, was distant and foggy at best._

_Hades knew that death hurt. He couldn’t understand how Nico felt in that moment._

_He didn’t look surprised to see Nico when he shadowtraveled in._

_“Son,” Hades said, a forced casual air to his tone. “Nice of you to stop by.”_

_“You know why I’m here,” Nico said sharply._

_Hades sighed. “Maybe.”_

_“You do,” Nico replied, impatient. He didn’t want to play games here. “What happened to Jason?”_

_“Forgive me for not keeping track of all of your friends—”_

_“No, don’t do that. Don’t insult me.” Nico gritted his teeth. “I felt him die.”_

_Hades paused, long enough for Nico to start flexing his hands with an agitated anxiety._

_“Then I don’t see why you need me to tell you what happened,” Hades said carefully._

_Nico could’ve screamed. That was so deliberately not saying anything real. Hades was keeping him in the dark on purpose—he knew there was something more going on, and he was just hoping that Nico didn’t. He wanted to keep Nico from knowing what was happening._

Or he wants to keep you from kidding yourself, _a soft, broken voice whispered in the back of Nico’s mind._

_“Leo,” Nico said. It was the first time they’d addressed the issue directly. Because as long as Hades looked away, it didn’t matter that Leo had cheated death, and Nico didn’t have to worry about consequences._

_So it was reckless to do this. Nico knew that. Nico knew that Jason, too, would’ve been furious about Nico choosing to play the card of Leo’s life for him. But honestly, Nico couldn’t bring himself to care about whether Jason would approve._

_“Nico,” Hades said, a warning in his tone._

_“I knew, when I felt Leo’s death, that there was something different about it,” Nico pressed on. “I just didn’t know what.”_

_“Son, I will ask you to drop this conversation while you still can,” Hades said. He’d turned fully towards Nico, standing tall and rooted. “Do not make me ask again.”_

_“There was something different this time, too,” Nico said. He took a step forward. “What happened?”_

_“It would be better for everyone if you were to let this go,” Hades replied. His voice had dropped, an earnest gentleness in the quiet of it. “Nico. I am telling you to leave it alone.”_

_“I can’t do that,” Nico said. “If Jason’s still alive—if he can still be saved—”_

_“Nico—”_

_“If Leo could come back—and Hazel could come back—”_

_“Son, I will do you a favor and pretend I am not hearing any of this,” Hades said sharply._

_Nico scoffed. “Yeah, like you’d have to pretend to not listen to me.”_

_Hades let out a sigh. As he looked back at Nico, he looked frustrated. And, somehow, a little regretful._

_Nico steeled himself. “I’m not going to let this go. No matter what you say, I’m not leaving it alone, so the least you can do is give me something to go on. Give me anything.”_

_Hades paused, like he was considering it. Nico started to feel a little bit hopeful—he knew he was grasping at something he didn’t understand, he knew he was clinging to a feeling that might mean nothing. He just wanted any tangible proof that he was onto something—that something wasn’t right about this whole situation._

_“All I can say,” Hades said slowly, “is that I will never be able to tell you where to find him.”_

_Nico felt a piece of his resolve crack and fall away. That didn’t help at all. It didn’t tell him anything, it only made him feel more lost._

\---

“Someday I’ll get used to that,” Leo muttered once they were shadowtraveled into New Rome.

Nico smirked. “You say that every time.”

“It’s just so _cold,”_ Leo said with a shiver.

Nico rolled his eyes. That was always the most difficult part of them living together. Leo hated the cold; Nico hated the heat. Basically all of their roommate fights revolved around the state of the air conditioning.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” Nico replied, walking towards the streets.

New Rome was a nice enough place. Nico certainly saw the benefits of living in a protected area like this with other demigods, not having to worry about running into stray monsters on the streets outside your apartment. If things had gone differently, he might’ve even chosen to live there when Hazel had brought the idea up with him, with that hopeful look in her eye.

Ultimately, Nico couldn’t do it. Even after he’d stopped trying to find Jason and settled into a facsimile of acceptance, he couldn’t stomach spending much time in New Rome. He knew that they’d held a funeral for Jason, that there was an empty grave somewhere with his name on it, and just the concept alone made him want to flee the place.

It was all so wrong—the funeral with no body, the quiet acceptance almost everyone had approached Jason’s death with, the idea that his gravestone should even _be_ in New Rome when Nico knew that Jason had felt trapped by all the expectations that had been forced on him.

Nico shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, trying not to get caught in thinking about Jason again. As always, it hurt too much.

By the time Leo and Nico made it to the restaurant, Hazel and Frank were already there, sitting at a corner table and talking quietly to each other.

Leo spread his arms. “We have arrived!” he announced, too loudly, as he sped up to greet Frank and Hazel.

Frank stood to hug Leo and Nico kissed Hazel quickly on the cheek before sitting down across from her.

“Sorry we’re late,” Leo said. “All that Bay Area traffic—”

Nico rolled his eyes. Leo made that joke every time they shadowtraveled in.

“So it’s been a while,” Hazel said, shooting Nico a meaningful look.

It _had_ been a while. Despite how close Nico and Leo lived, they didn’t visit all that often. They didn’t discuss why. Nico just assumed that Leo had similar reasons to him.

“Midterms, y’know,” Leo said, elbowing Nico in the arm. “And do you have any idea how many times I day I have to teach people how to check the oil in their cars? Wild. Anyway, Frank, how are classes these days?”

Hazel gave Nico an unimpressed _We’re not done talking about this_ look, and Nico replied with a silent _I can’t control what Leo says or does_ shrug.

Frank smiled. “Oh, fantastic. The kids are so great.”

He’d been teaching music classes at the New Rome elementary school for a while now. It suited him.

Really, Frank and Hazel’s life as a whole suited them both, Nico thought. Hazel was a teacher, too—she taught history at the high school. They lived together in a small apartment in New Rome, right near Hazel’s favorite bakery, not far from Percy and Annabeth’s place. Every once in a while, they were called in to teach a special class at Camp Jupiter or lead a field trip of demigods to Camp Half-Blood.

“Can’t imagine teaching a classroom full of little kids,” Leo said.

Frank laughed. “They’re not all kids like _you.”_

“Hey!” Leo protested, grinning. “I _could’ve_ been worse.”

“A horrifying thought,” Nico said.

They ordered dinner and chatted like that for a while, catching up on the mundanities of their lives. Nico didn’t talk much, but that wasn’t all that out of the ordinary, so he just hoped no one noticed that anything was off.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Jason. About the man he’d seen in the reflection in the rain.

Being in New Rome didn’t help in the slightest.

“Well, we should get going,” Leo said eventually, once they’d sorted out the bill, casting a strange glance towards Nico.

Nico realized he’d been lost in thought—he hadn’t noticed that it had gotten dark outside.

“So soon?” Frank said.

“Uh, yeah, midterms, remember? Nico’s got tests this week, and I have an early morning appointment tomorrow,” Leo replied with an apologetic shrug.

“You? Early morning?” Hazel said doubtfully.

“Hey, I gotta work around customers’ schedules sometimes,” Leo replied. He got to his feet, a little abruptly. “Nico?”

“Mhmm,” Nico said, following suit.

Hazel frowned a little. “Well, we really need to do this again soon. Maybe with Percy and Annabeth, too? I feel like it’s been ages.”

“Sure thing,” Leo replied. “Maybe one of these days you can come to our side of the tunnel.”

Which was a _slightly_ pointed comment, even if Leo’s tone was friendly. It was sort of a _thing_ that their friends in New Rome didn’t typically venture out into the mortal Bay Area unless they needed to.

New Rome was contained and self-sufficient—it had schools, restaurants, small neighborhood parks. It was safe and nice, so Nico _understood,_ and _he_ was never willing to explain why it was painful to be there. He couldn’t hold it against his friends.

Leo, for his part, was a little more frustrated by the pattern. _We haven’t even encountered monsters on the outside lately!_ he’d complained to Nico recently. _And we have a better selection of restaurants anyway._

“Seems I’ll have to,” Hazel said. She smiled, but offered Nico another pointed look. “Since my brother is _so busy_ all the time.”

“We’ll catch up soon,” Nico said, trying to smile back. “I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Leo pulled Nico to the exit, waving another goodbye to Hazel and Frank.

When they got outside, Leo’s strange expression came back—furrowed brow, something like concern in his eyes.

“Dude,” he said as they walked towards the town border, where they’d gotten in the habit of shadowtraveling back out.

“Hm?”

“Earth to Nico! What’s with you?”

Nico twisted the ring on his finger, absent-mindedly.

“It’s nothing.”

“Try again.”

He shot Leo a glare. “It’s _probably_ nothing.”

“Reassuring.”

Nico took a breath, trying to sort through what he could say.

“It really is probably nothing,” Nico said slowly. “But if I find out that it isn’t, I’ll tell you.”

“Sometimes, you give the gods a run for their money when it comes to saying cryptic, ominous shit,” Leo said, shaking his head.

Nico rolled his eyes.

\---

_It was maybe one of the crueler ways he’d dealt with the grief, showing up to Piper McLean, unannounced and seething with misdirected fury._

_“I can’t,” she’d been saying. She had a complicated mess of frustration, anger, and hurt in her eyes._

_“Can’t or won’t?” Nico replied harshly. He knew he was asking a lot, but he didn’t care. He just wanted someone else to be trying as hard as he was._

_“Both! Either!” She groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “You think I don’t wish things were different? But I can’t just—he’s not—you’re not being realistic, Nico. It’s not possible this time.”_

_“Aren’t you his girlfriend?” Nico had said, narrowed eyes and dripping tone. “Shouldn’t you care?”_

_“You have no right to—” Piper started, crossing her arms over her chest. She let out a huff, frowning at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were broken up. And not that it’s any of your business, but I do care.”_

_“Sure seems like it,” Nico replied, pointedly looking around her room, eyes dragging over the signs of the mundane, mortal life she’d adopted. Posters. Notebooks. Class schedules._

_“That’s not fair,” she replied._

_No, it wasn’t, but when had life ever been fair to them?_

_“I’m telling you that I haven’t been able to find him,” Nico snapped, frustrated. He didn’t know how else to say it. He hadn’t found Jason anywhere—and that included every corner of the Underworld he could get to so far._

_And if he couldn’t find Jason in the Underworld, that meant he didn’t have real confirmation that Jason was dead._

Bianca isn’t in the Underworld either, _came the lingering thought that kept sinking his hope with dread._

_He wasn’t going there. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in the worry that Jason had already chosen reincarnation, that he couldn’t be found because there was nothing left of him to find. It hurt too much to think about._

_“And I’m telling you that you weren’t there,” Piper said. Her tone was sharp, all jagged edges. Her charmspeak had never had an effect on Nico, so he figured she’d given up the niceties with him._

_“I don’t know what that has to do with it,” Nico replied. He couldn’t stop the flicker of defensiveness in his tone. Because, yeah, he hadn’t been there—he’d been playing at a peaceful life at Camp Half-Blood, having a totally normal day, while Jason got dragged into one last quest._

_Because there was always one last quest for heroes like Jason, wasn’t there?_

_“I saw him die—” Piper said. Her voice cracked. Nico shoved down any guilt that was trying to rise up in his throat to tell him to let this one go. “And you said you felt it, too—there’s no way he survived that, and we can’t—we can’t change it. I’m not going to throw away my life here.”_

_Nico shot her a stubborn glare, a wry smile. “I guess that’s where we differ, huh? I’m not giving up.”_

_Piper narrowed her eyes. “Get out, Nico.”_

_“Happily.” He gave her a sarcastic salute as he backed away into a shadow._

_He ignored the small, hurting part of him that just wanted to apologize to her, to ask her how the hell she was managing, how she was still so together when he was in pieces. Ignored the part of himself that had, urgently, wanted to reach out, knowing that Piper might be the only person he could talk to who had any semblance of how he felt._

_It was a lost cause. Talking to Piper had the distant chance of making him feel better, and Nico didn’t want to feel better. Not really._

\---

It had been one week. Exactly.

Nico had told himself, when he’d gone back to check before, that he’d only do it the once.

But who was he kidding?

He told himself, again, that this was the last time.

On that same street corner where he’d seen the reflection, where he’d waited for hours to try and catch it a second time, he lingered in the shadows across the street.

He tried to pretend like he wasn’t hoping for anything, but his heart was pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape into the shelter of that reflection he’d seen.

He wanted it to be true. He wanted it with an ache in his chest, an itch at his fingertips, urging him to reach for this. He wanted, more than anything, for it to be true.

Nico watched the crowd intently, barely blinking, just in case.

Which was why it was strange that he still, in his intense focus, nearly missed the man across the street slipping out of the coffeeshop and starting to head down the block. Nico felt like the world had stopped—he could hear his own pulse in his ear, and he stopped registering anyone else on that sidewalk.

He couldn’t be sure—it was only a glimpse—it was too far away to know for sure—

But _Styx,_ it did look like him.

When Nico’s breath caught up with him, he rushed across the street.

And there he was. The man had stopped for a moment on the sidewalk, looking down at a phone.

Nico stilled, a few feet away.

Nico felt a spike of fear. He looked taller, his shoulders broader. The way he moved was the same, though. Careful steps forward, steady and deliberate. The blond hair was maybe a shade darker. _Was_ it him? Or was it someone who just looked so much like him that Nico felt dizzy?

Only one way to find out.

“Grace?” Nico said softly, taking another step forward.

Nico watched as the man tilted his head slightly to the sound. He held his breath as he turned around.

It was him.

_Jason._

There, in front of him. Those same electrically blue eyes. With those glasses. Older. Wearing a collared shirt and a tie.

“Sorry?” he said, _and it was his voice._

“It’s really you,” Nico said, barely loud enough to be heard.

Nico thought it was a minor miracle that he managed to stay standing.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again.

What the _hell_ was he supposed to say?

Jason was looking back at him without recognition. Which…

Well.

“Do I know you?” Jason asked.

Nico felt a shattering in his chest.

_There was a time when you knew me better than anyone in my life._

“I guess not,” he said.

“I usually go by Jason,” Jason replied, sticking out a hand.

Nico stared at it.

After a few awkward moments, Jason took his hand back.

“I answer to Grace too, though.”

Nico opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Jason raised an expectant eyebrow.

 _Something small,_ Nico decided.

“Hey, how’d you get that scar?” he asked, keeping his tone light. Like the question didn’t feel like a precipice.

“Huh?” Jason said, furrowing his brow in apparent confusion.

Which was fair enough, Nico supposed. It was sort of out of the blue, and scars weren’t typically a first-conversation topic. Certainly not from what was seemingly a complete stranger, who had yet to do much other than stare.

Nico gestured. “On your lip.”

“Oh.” Jason blinked, staring at Nico for a few long moments. He brought a hand up, grazing his fingertips against the scar, and Nico tried not to stare. “Y’know, I don’t really remember. I was really little when it happened. I was told I fell against the corner of the coffee table.”

Nico’s heart shriveled in his chest, and he couldn’t help but stare at the scar now. _It’s the same scar,_ he insisted to himself. _I know it is, I recognize it._

He didn’t have it in him to think about the fact that he was so certain, after all these years. He knew why.

“You were told?” Nico said.

Jason tilted his head, studying Nico’s face curiously. “Uh, yeah. My sister liked to tell the story.”

“Your sister,” Nico repeated, tone flat. _This can’t be happening._

“Um.” Jason seemed like he didn’t know how to take Nico’s tone. Which… fair enough. “Yeah.”

“You close?” Nico ventured. It seemed like a good enough way to gauge what the hell this version of Jason knew about his sister, about his life. One way or another, maybe there would be a hint of some kind in the answer.

Jason let out a short laugh. “Not particularly. Haven’t seen her in ages.”

Nico paused. Well, no, that didn’t really illuminate anything.

“Sorry to hear that.”

Jason just shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“What’s her name?”

“Tessa.”

Huh.

“When you say you haven’t seen her in ages—”

“Oh, um. I just mean we… lost touch. A while ago.” Jason frowned a little, rubbing the back of his head. He looked a little troubled, almost like he was trying to sort through something that wasn’t adding up. “I honestly don’t remember how long it’s been.”

It could mean nothing. It wasn’t necessarily some sign that something else was going on—people lost track, it happened. Nico couldn’t tell you how many months it had been since he’d talked to Reyna.

This, however, was stacking. A doppelganger with a vague past and family?

In Nico’s experience, it was pretty rare for demigods to come across strange things that amounted to something mundane.

“That’s too bad,” Nico said cautiously. He needed more to go on, but he wasn’t sure how to approach this.

If he was being honest, he was absolutely reeling. He had a moment of thinking that this _had_ to be a dream, only how often did he get any dreams that could be categorized as good ones?

Jason looked a little uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.

“Well, I should, um, get going—” he started, taking a slow step away.

The sharp stab of panic rose in Nico’s chest. He _couldn’t_ let Jason leave. He couldn’t let this slip away, he’d never forgive himself.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, grabbing Jason’s arm.

He was painfully aware at how weird this was. At how bizarre he’d acted this whole time, how easy it could be to think he was crazy right now.

Jason glanced down to where Nico’s hand was clutching at him.

“Uh—”

“Um, I—” Nico cleared his throat. He told himself to take his hand back but he couldn’t seem to make himself listen. “I just mean…” _Say something normal._ “When are you going to be back around here again? I, um. Want to see you again.”

And oh, wow, Nico could not have made that sound more awkward. He silently cursed himself for it. Why had he made it sound like that, like he was asking Jason out on a date or something? Driving him away was the opposite of what Nico was trying to do, and if he had to resort to stalking the guy, he was going to scream.

“Oh,” was all Jason said at first, staring.

 _Nice going, di Angelo._ He couldn’t act normal to save his life, or anyone else’s.

But then Jason’s mouth twitched up into a smile. “I’m usually here Tuesdays and Thursdays during my lunch hour. If you happened to show up.” He gestured back towards the coffeeshop.

Nico silently thanked whatever god was in charge of the unique obliviousness of well-meaning straight guys that Jason didn’t seem to pick up on just how weird Nico was being.

“Right, okay,” Nico replied, half breathless. “Good to know.”

“My lunch hour is at noon.”

“Noted.”

“I’m just saying,” Jason went on. “I wouldn’t complain. If I had the company.”

“Cool,” Nico said. He studied Jason’s face, trying to figure out if he was just being nice for the sake of it, or trying to placate Nico so that he could leave and never come back. But Jason just had that familiar earnest look in his eye. “Maybe I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”

Jason’s smile widened. “I hope so.”

Nico let go of Jason’s arm, dropping his hand back to his side. He felt like he’d fallen into an episode of _The Twilight Zone._

“Right,” Nico said.

“Good.”

“Okay.”

Jason looked a little amused at Nico’s apparent confusion. “I really do have to get back to work now,” he said. He touched Nico’s arm gently, just barely pressing with his fingertips. “See you around. Maybe on Thursday.”

As he turned and walked away, Nico felt like he was on fire.

What the _fuck_ was happening? And what in Hades was he supposed to do about it?

He told himself to take a breath, but his lungs didn’t seem to want to work anymore. His pulse was racing, and he just kept staring at the corner that Jason had disappeared around.

He wanted to talk to Leo.

Well, no, that wasn’t actually quite right. He wanted to talk to _Jason._ His Jason. He wanted to ask the Jason he knew what he was supposed to _do_ here. None of this was possible, none of it made sense, and Nico could hardly stand.

He couldn’t talk to Leo about this. Not yet. It was too dangerous. He needed more to go on—he needed more assurance that he wasn’t chasing more lost causes. He needed to know this was real before he could drag Leo down with him.

 _This is fine,_ he told himself. Deeply unconvincingly. _I’ll just come back here on Thursday and we’ll see. Maybe I’ll realize it’s not even him, maybe I’ll see that it’s just an eerie lookalike and no one will ever have to know about this._

Yeah. Fine. He had a semblance of a plan. He’d come back on Thursday, and he’d go from there.


	2. feelings forgotten, feelings ignored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just feel like I’d remember you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm shifting around the canon timeline a bit, so I hope it still makes sense.  
> I've also never been much for keeping to a specific schedule, but considering the length of these chapters, I might aim for weekly? We'll see how that works.

_The first real day that Nico stayed at Camp Half-Blood, the first day he didn’t have an excuse to still be there, might’ve ended up being miserable._

_He was tired, he was nervous, he was afraid. The mood was still all over the place from Leo’s death, and then the subsequent news that he wasn’t actually dead, and Nico felt like people were looking at him, wondering if the child of death knew more than he was letting on. Or just, as always, wondering why he was still there._

_His cabin was awful. Cold and dark and lonely. Hazel had left, back to Camp Jupiter, so Nico was staying there alone._

_The cabin really felt like proof of everything he’d always been afraid of—it was tangible, obvious evidence of how the other camper perceived him. How they’d_ always _perceive him. Dark, gloomy, unhappy, unwelcoming._

_No wonder they never tried with him, right? If that was all they saw._

_Maybe it was Nico’s own fear, but the cabin just looked out of place. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Jason he wanted to redecorate it. He’d said it flippantly, like it didn’t matter so much, but Styx, it really did matter to him. He wanted a place._

_How was he supposed to stick around Camp Half-Blood if the room he slept in made him want to run away again?_

_He thought that maybe, just maybe, if he started with redecorating the place, people would see that he wanted to be there. And maybe, just maybe, if he made it look less like a crypt, he could show everyone that there was more to him than being a son of Hades._

_He didn’t know where to start. It seemed like an impossibly large task. Which felt ridiculous, too—he’d shadowtraveled hundreds of miles with an enormous statue, but he couldn’t fathom how to redecorate a place?_

_He knew, sort of, why it felt different. The big things he’d done for the war—Tartarus, the statue, all of it, those were things he had to do for everyone else. It was different, when he was trying to be a hero. He couldn’t worry about whether he’d fail because it wasn’t an option. People were counting on him, and besides, if he failed, he’d just die._

_Here, this small thing, it was for himself. To offer himself a way to feel like he belonged. If he failed, he’d have to live with the fact that he still, after all this, couldn’t find a way to belong._

_So his first day felt fraught with pressure—like every miniscule move he made was some kind of test._

_It didn’t help that Will Solace seemed to always know where he was, and kept showing up to drag him into things, or that Percy seemed weirdly frenzied whenever he talked to Nico, like he was overcompensating like crazy. It didn’t help that Hazel and Reyna were gone, or, really, that Piper was around._

_Nico wanted it to matter less to him. He didn’t want to care so much whether or not he was accepted, or liked._

_All of which was to say Nico was bracing himself for a miserable first real day of living there._

_The Hades cabin was sort of distant from the rest (of course it was) so Nico was alone, sitting on the ground, leaning against a tucked-away tree where he could really study the façade of his cabin. Red and black, tacky, like vampires were supposed to live there. The inside of it was worse._

_This was how they saw him._

_He was engrossed in studying the details, each skull motif or darkened window, at that point more to obsessively pick at who they all thought he was, and hopelessly think about whether it was even possible to be anything else to them by then. Maybe it was all a lost cause._

_He was so focused that he didn’t notice Jason until he’d settled down on the ground next to him._

_“How’s it going?” Jason asked, following Nico’s gaze to look at the cabin._

_“Fine,” Nico said flatly._

_It was, it was_ fine, _because either he was going to fix it or he was going to be proven right about not belonging anywhere. Fine. Whatever. He could deal with either outcome. It wouldn’t be anything new._

_“Thinking about how you wanna renovate?” Jason asked._

_“Something like that.”_

_“What are you thinking?”_

_Nico didn’t know what possessed him to be honest in that moment._

_“That it doesn’t matter,” he said, keeping his eyes on the cabin so he didn’t have to look at Jason._

_Jason kept quiet for a few long moments, like he was waiting for Nico to elaborate._

_“What do you mean?” Jason prompted._

_Nico sighed. He gestured helplessly towards the cabin._

_“This is who I am to them,” Nico said. “This is what they think of me.”_

_“They just don’t know you yet.”_

_The way he said it gave Nico a prickly, defensive feeling._

_“And you do?” he replied, slightly challengingly._

_“I’d like to,” Jason said mildly. “And I’m sure I’m not the only one.”_

_Nico had two reactions simultaneously. First, the stubborn, excited need to trust Jason, the bubbling energy of who he’d been before, the desperation to take the offer of friendship at face value and let Jason in. Second, the bitter, callous urge to brush Jason off and push him away, to protect himself before he could be hurt, rejected, or abandoned yet again._

_Nico went with Door Number Three._

_“Maybe I should just lean into it and find a vampire to bite me,” he muttered._

_Jason snorted out a surprise laugh, bringing a hand to his mouth._

_“Are vampires real?” Jason said, still snickering a little._

_“If they’re not, I think this cabin alone is enough to just, like, bring them into existence.”_

_“Seems possible,” Jason replied. “Maybe you’ll wake up one morning and vampires will just live there with you.”_

_“Vampire rules say they have to be invited in,” Nico said. “But maybe just the appearance of the place alone counts as an invitation.”_

_“I didn’t know that rule about vampires.”_

_“Yeah, it’s one of the things.”_

_“Hey, did you ask Chiron about renovating the cabin?” Jason asked._

_Nico snorted. “What, like for permission? No one else lives here. What’s he gonna do, anyway, stop me?”_

_“I meant for help,” Jason replied._

_That was even less appealing than asking for permission. If it was up to Nico, he’d do the whole thing at night while everyone was asleep so there wouldn’t be a chance of anyone even seeing him work. There was a better chance of him summoning skeletons to help him out than him asking a single live person for help._

_“No,” Nico said, hoping there was enough finality in his tone to convey that asking for help wasn’t happening. He didn’t want to ask anyone for anything._

_Jason paused for a moment, and Nico caught him staring out of the corner of his eye._

_“What?” he sighed, fully prepared for Jason to start giving him some speech about how he should try harder, how he’d never really feel like part of camp if he kept isolating himself, how if he just gave people a chance, they might surprise him. He’d heard as much from Will Solace a few times._

_But Jason didn’t say any of that._

_“I’ll help,” he said._

_Nico tensed. He didn’t want to be a charity case._

_“Thanks, but—”_

_“Please let me help?” Jason rephrased._

_Nico turned to him, studying his face warily._

_Styx, Jason could look like a puppy sometimes. All big eyes and hopeful smile. He was impossible. Nico had made every effort to push him away after what happened with Cupid, and Jason just refused to give up. And it apparently wasn’t enough that Nico had accepted Jason’s insistence of friendship; he actually wanted to, like,_ be friends.

_Nico had fully anticipated that once he’d stopped actively trying to get Jason away from him, Jason would’ve been satisfied, heroic duty to the outcast complete. He’d expected Jason to leave him alone._

_Apparently not._

_And now here he was, looking at Nico_ like that.

_Nico groaned, dragging a hand down his face._

_“Di immortales, Jason, does anyone ever have a chance in Hades at saying no to you?” he muttered._

_Jason grinned. “You’d be surprised.”_

\---

Waiting until Thursday, it turned out, was much easier said than done.

Nico was antsy and _completely terrified._

He was terrified of his own hope. He was dreading the loss of it. He was so unbelievably scared to find out what the truth was.

Because what were his options, right?

Either he was following another ghost and this was going to turn out to be nothing _yet again,_ and he would’ve wasted his own time and energy and fallen right back into the old habits and cycles of depression he’d been trying so hard to deal with. And he didn’t know if he could survive having to give up hope again.

Or. It really was Jason. Which would mean that this whole time, he’d been out there somewhere, and Nico had given up on him. And if that were true…

Gods, how would Nico ever forgive himself for that?

He wouldn’t.

He fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

It _was_ Jason. It was.

So where had he _been_ this whole time? And why didn’t he remember?

How did he survive, when Piper had been so certain, beyond the shadow of a doubt?

Nico kept second-guessing himself, kept turning over the memory like he might find its flaw if he looked hard enough. He’d spent so long telling himself to accept it, to let it go. Telling himself that Jason was gone—honestly, that he’d probably chosen reincarnation, and Nico had wasted his time and energy.

He’d never found Jason in the Underworld. He’d never been able to summon his ghost. There had been no body to bury.

Nico couldn’t even feel an echo of vindication that he’d been _right._

Because he’d given up.

Nico slipped into Camp Jupiter, the familiar ache of the place a little easier to ignore with his one-track mind zeroed in on the only thing that really mattered right now.

He didn’t want to let Hazel catch him here. He took the long way to avoid her place, even though she was probably at work at that hour.

He managed to make it to Percy and Annabeth’s without much trouble and just crossed his fingers that Annabeth wouldn’t be around. Leo was already suspicious, Percy was about to be—Nico didn’t need anyone else trying to keep an eye on what he was doing.

He was handling it. So far.

He knocked on the door, feeling a twinge of relief when it was Percy who answered.

Percy’s schedule was a little less predictable than the rest of them—Hazel and Frank had the steady teaching jobs, and Annabeth was an architect, which kept her busy most days of the week. Percy, on the other hand, had the job of finding and rescuing lost demigod kids. Which sometimes meant researching abnormal news stories, sometimes meant going on short trips, and sometimes just meant waiting.

The lull in monster activity was pretty universal, but that didn’t really mean demigod kids were safe. The monsters that were still hanging around were just more likely to target young, confused kids who didn’t know who they were. There were also those occasions where the demigod kids themselves had some incident with their powers.

So Percy, being Percy, had taken it upon himself to find those kids and bring them somewhere safe, like New Rome and Camp Jupiter or Camp Half-Blood. Sometimes the Waystation.

Nico couldn’t _imagine_ how many young demigods there were now who’d developed some tragic crushes on the heroic Son of Poseidon who’d saved their lives. Just like he had all those years ago.

He was sure Percy didn’t notice at all.

“Nico,” Percy greeted, looking confused. “Um. Hey! How have you been?”

“Y’know. Fine.” Nico and Percy had managed to become some sort of friends in the years since everything happened, but there would always probably be a little bit of awkwardness between them. They didn’t really spend any one on one time together. Percy was hardly the first person Nico usually went to for anything.

This was a special circumstance.

“So what’s up?” Percy asked, stepping to the side to let Nico in.

“I was hoping I could… ask you about something,” Nico replied slowly. He crossed the threshold, but stayed hovering by the door. How was he supposed to bring this up without it sounding insanely weird?

“Uh, okay, that sounds ominous,” Percy replied. He furrowed his brow and tilted his head a little, studying Nico’s face. “Something going on?”

He said it with the grim, resigned tone of someone who didn’t trust the calm. Nico understood that.

“Not… like that,” Nico said slowly. He didn’t think so, anyway. But honestly, if it did turn out that Jason showing up again came at the cost of their peace, Nico would be okay with that. He’d long since proven he was willing to face a lot of things for Jason’s sake. “There’s something… It’s not… Look. I just had some questions about when you lost your memory. I can’t… say why yet.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He looked more confused than before.

“It’s important,” Nico added.

Percy crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Okay. Alright, sure. Can’t promise I’ll be able to tell you much—it was, like, _years_ ago.”

“You had _no_ memories, right? Hera didn’t replace yours with—”

“No, ah—no. That was just…”

“Right. When did you start getting your memory back?”

Percy looked thoughtful. “It was pretty gradual, I think…”

“ _How_ did you start to remember?” Nico asked.

“Oh, easy—I remembered Annabeth.” Percy smiled a little, sort of to himself. “Hera didn’t manage to make me forget her. So that’s what I held onto.”

Nico frowned, looking down. Okay. Maybe he had to talk to Piper. He _really_ didn’t want to talk to Piper. He could at least try to find a way to bring her up when he saw Jason again. Maybe he should find a picture of her, or—

“You really can’t tell me what this is about?” Percy asked.

“Not yet,” Nico replied, distantly. _But if Jason and Piper were broken up when—_

“But it’s not, like, apocalyptic?”

“…Probably not.”

“Oh, reassuring.”

“Almost definitely not?”

“I don’t like those odds with our luck.”

Nico sighed. “Look, I _barely_ know what it is. It might be nothing. I could be doing all this for nothing. I’ll tell you when I know more.”

Percy looked at him seriously. “You’ll ask for help if you need it, right?”

What a question.

“It’s fine, Percy, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Nico replied. He glanced towards the nearest shadows. “Thanks for this.”

“Wait, Nico—”

He slid into the shadows before he could hear anything else.

\---

_Nico stopped being surprised, after a little while, by Jason showing up at his door. He still didn’t really understand what Jason was expecting from him, and he still didn’t really get why Jason was so committed to this whole thing._

_But pretty much every day, Jason would come knock on his cabin door in the afternoon. The first couple times, it was to help redecorate the Hades cabin into something tolerable, but he kept showing up after they were finished with that. The place had become much nicer—it still had a quality that reminded Nico of his father, some dim, stony shades of gray, but it was set against purples and blues instead of blood red. The inside of it actually felt like a place that Nico could live. He’d started enjoying be in there._

_Despite Will’s best efforts, Nico still wasn’t really into the camp activities. For one thing, it felt weird to try to go do things like camp scavenger hunts or hanging out roasting marshmallows this soon after the war. This hadn’t been a normal thing for Nico before everything happened, and it just felt even stranger in this aftermath._

_Nico went to a few things, mostly to placate Will’s pestering or see the relieved smile on Percy’s face, but he couldn’t just jump right into acting like he was a normal kid at the tail end of a summer at Camp Half-Blood._

_Jason, for whatever reason, caught on pretty quickly that Nico was spending most afternoons hiding out in his cabin._

_Nico had half-expected Jason to join Will in generally pestering him to participate more, but he didn’t. He didn’t even mention it._

_He’d just show up, with some sheepish smile and a thin excuse to hang out, and then they’d end up sitting on the floor of the Hades cabin for a few hours. Sometimes talking, sometimes not. It was weird, to have that kind of consistency._

_Honestly, Nico didn’t know how to feel. Or. He did know how to feel and he was trying to pretend like it was nothing. He didn’t need any more heroes in his life, giving him something utterly inaccessible to helplessly want._

_Jason wasn’t making it easy._

_“You really don’t have to keep doing this,” Nico blurted out at a certain point._

_Jason stared at him for a moment, looking taken aback. “Doing what?”_

_“I’ll, like, start going to the camp things, okay? You don’t have to miss out on them just because I’ve been avoiding them. I’ll go.” Nico’s face was getting hot. He was trying not to look at Jason._

_“Wait, Nico—what are you—I’m not—did you think—” Jason stammered. He paused for a few moments. “Do you_ want _to start going to all the camp things?”_

_Nico sighed. If he just lied about it and said he did want to, then it would be fine. Jason wouldn’t feel bad about making him go, and Nico could tolerate all the people and forced activities. It didn’t have to be a big deal or anything._

_But Nico didn’t like lying to Jason. Jason trusted him._

_“Not really,” Nico admitted. “But if you do—”_

_“I don’t,” Jason said._

_“What?”_

_“Look, being here—I like Camp Half-Blood. It feels… more like home than anywhere else right now. But all of this, it can be—a lot.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It’s the way people look at me sometimes. Like they know me.”_

_“Oh,” Nico said, his voice quiet. “Yeah. I get that.”_

_“I know you do,” Jason said, shooting him a tentative smile. “I mean, this—” he gestured between the two of them. “I like it. It’s been nice. We get to escape from everyone else for a while, y’know?”_

_Nico stared at him, searching for the catch. Looking for the moment where it turned out that Jason was pitying him or doing him a favor._

_Because even if Jason wanted to escape from everyone else for a bit, even if he needed some refuge, too, like Nico did, why would he ever want to do it with Nico? Why not Piper, or Percy, or—_

_Literally anyone else._

_Jason looked down, fidgeting with his hands. “You never expect me to be anyone else.” He said it like some quiet confession._

_The idea that Jason was getting anything out of this was astounding. Nico didn’t know how to react._

_“Me?” Nico said, his voice small._

_“Yeah, it… You get it.” Jason didn’t seem to register Nico’s shock. He was still looking into his palms. “I know it’s not the same. For you. But being a son of Jupiter… Being Roman, too, even just being named Jason in the first place. There’s too much I’m_ supposed _to be. Sometimes it feels like no one sees anything but that.”_

_“But… me?” Nico repeated._

_Jason met his gaze and smiled. A soft, kind smile, full of a warmth that made Nico want to look away. “Yeah. You never want anything from me.”_

_Nico swallowed, feeling a twinge of guilt curling around him like shadows. There were, actually, things he desperately wanted from Jason—more with every passing second, it seemed. If Jason kept looking at him like that, it was just going to get worse._

_“Oh,” Nico replied. At a complete and total loss._

_“So can we… Can we just keep doing this?” Jason asked, softly. “I mean, if you start wanting to go to more camp things, I’ll go with you. But I do like hanging out just the two of us like this.”_

_The fact that he_ asked _was also baffling. Who would ever say no to that?_

_“I mean. Yeah. Sure.” Nico twisted the ring on his finger. “I like it, too.”_

_Nico got another two weeks of being with Jason like that before he left with Piper to search for Leo._

_It was a really, really nice two weeks._

\---

The night before Nico was going to see Jason again, he dreamt.

It wasn’t a normal dream.

It started like a familiar nightmare—Nico was back in that tomb in Croatia.

It had been years since that day. Nico had come a long way from the boy who was so afraid and so _angry_ about his own feelings that he nearly let them tear him apart. It had been _years—_ Nico didn’t stumble over the word _gay_ anymore, he’d come out to all of his friends. He’d even dated a few guys here and there, though it never seemed to last.

But he still had the nightmares.

Being forcibly outed like that is a traumatic enough experience _without_ it being attached to memories of being taunted, thrown, cut, tortured. The experience had left a scar that never seemed to truly fade. It had hurt in ways Nico didn’t know how to express.

As far as Nico’s nightmares went, they could’ve been worse. They weren’t as bad as the ones he had about Tartarus.

Typically, when he had these dreams, he would just end up at that place in Split, under thick clouds, darkness creeping around him. He’d feel like he’d felt that day: scared, trapped, alone, hopeless, worthless. The ruins would start crumbling around him, getting close to crushing him, and he wouldn’t be able to move or breathe. Sometimes, shadows would creep off the ground and pull him to his knees by his wrists. Sometimes, he’d feel himself melting into the shadows and he’d try to scream.

He was aware he was dreaming when he ended up there. He had a faint sense of _oh, here we go again,_ because knowing he was dreaming didn’t stop him from going through the motions of it, from feeling afraid and helpless.

After a moment, though, he noticed that he could move. There was no encroaching darkness about to envelope him. He took a slow step forward, looking around.

He felt apprehensive, uncertain.

 _Nico di Angelo,_ a voice hummed, and Nico froze. _What a surprise._

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Nico muttered.

_Not happy to be here? Not happy to see me?_

Cupid materialized in front of him, that white suit and red eyes that were burned in Nico’s memory forever.

“Not particularly,” Nico replied.

“You would do well to speak with respect when calling upon a god, dear child,” Cupid said. At least he was actually speaking instead of whisking around as a disembodied voice.

“I didn’t call upon you,” Nico said.

Cupid had the nerve to look amused. “Did you not?”

“Pretty sure I was aiming to never see you again,” he retorted. He was aware that being rude to a god was never the smartest move, but it was _his_ dream. He’d rather be left alone.

“Turning away from love can be costly,” Cupid said. “Do you _truly_ wish to never see love again?”

Nico sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Haven’t you messed with me enough?”

“You hurt. You ache. I understand.”

“Why are you here?” Nico replied wearily, not wanting to deal with… any of this.

“Love reawoken is a powerful thing.” Cupid tilted his head, curiously examining Nico with those too-red eyes.

“Is this _really_ about—” Nico cut off, shaking his head. “You can’t just—you don’t have anything over me anymore. You don’t get to rip my feelings out of me again. You can’t _hurt_ me this time.”

“I very much can,” Cupid said, gently. He sounded almost like he regretted it. Like this was a burden on him, too.

Nico felt an itch of frustration. He didn’t want this god’s pity. “Just… leave it alone. There’s nothing for you to pick at here.”

“You misunderstand me, Nico,” Cupid replied. “Love is not always a war. Sometimes it’s quieter than that. It’s understandable, with your experiences, that you would think love is always a heavy burden, a fight to win or lose. But there is more that is possible. You understand, don’t you?”

“What do you _want_ from me?” Nico bit out. He didn’t want to _be here_ again. Not in this place, not with this god, not with these feelings. He’d left it behind; he couldn’t go through that again. It could’ve killed him the first time around.

“Want from you? Nothing,” Cupid said. “I’m just here to remind you. You learned something here, once. About love and honesty and yourself. Remember that.”

“Like I could forget.”

“You don’t need to be afraid, Nico.”

Nico gritted his teeth. He’d have preferred the nightmare. “I’m _not_ afraid, I’m tired.”

Cupid almost looked disappointed. He seemed to soften. “I am not your enemy.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Nico remembered that day too vividly. The details were in stark, painful images. He wasn’t sure he’d ever hated himself more than that frozen, aching moment.

“Love is not a force that works against you. You chose that.” Cupid looked at him for too long. Nico hated how it felt like burning. “You can always make a different choice.”

Nico didn’t want to hear anything more. He didn’t want any of this. He squeezed his eyes closed and willed the dream away.

If he had any more dreams that night, he didn’t remember them.

Thursday came, and Nico showed up at the coffeeshop way early.

He couldn’t help it. He had this desperate fear that he’d miss Jason, that he’d never be able to find him again. The dream had left him with this empty, lost feeling, and despite what he’d told Cupid, he was so, _so_ afraid.

He ordered a black coffee, completely not thinking about the fact that he hardly liked coffee to begin with, and took a seat by the window.

After all the years of being in constant mortal danger, Nico had gotten in the habit of sticking to corners when he was in public places. He liked having his back to the wall so he could see everything around him, and he felt like it was important to be as close to a shadow as he could be just in case he needed to escape fast.

Sitting by the window heightened his anxiety. Anyone could walk up behind him. The light from outside was too bright. He kept tapping his fingers against the table absent-mindedly, the nerves rising in his throat.

He’d prioritized being able to look outside to see Jason as soon as possible over feeling safe. Because of course he had.

Every time he heard the door, he perked up right away, even knowing that he was hours too early.

Gods, he felt a little pathetic. He’d told himself not to get his hopes up and it _clearly_ had not worked, even a little bit. He was clinging to this chance with all he was worth. He felt as keyed up as he had before, when he was losing his mind with every new, desperate lead he dug for.

He knew better than to have expected anything else from himself.

It was Jason. Nico never had a chance. 

\---

_Despite the fact that Nico had said it sarcastically, Jason sent him a postcard from nearly every place he and Piper ended up while they were searching for Leo. Most of the time, they got delivered by birds or by Tempest. A couple of times, they were actually sent through the mail. Nico wasn’t even sure that was supposed to be possible._

_They all knew that Leo was alive. It was just a matter of where in the world he’d ended up._

_Nico had been surprised when the first card came, seeming to just appear on the doorstep of the Hades cabin. Jason had barely been gone a few days._

_The postcard was a stylized drawing of the New York City skyline in black and white. Nico stared at it for a few long, confused moments before flipping it over._

**Nico!**

**Yeah, I know, I’m sending this to you from barely a few hours away. We had to start with New York because, well, can you imagine if we skipped it over because we assumed Leo wouldn’t be lost next door, only to find out he’d been hanging out in Central Park the whole time? You never know with Leo.**

**It was nice to see the city, anyway. I should really come here someday just as a tourist.**

**Hope you’re doing well,**

**Jason**

_Nico read it over several times, imagining Jason pausing the quest for a moment to go pick up a postcard from a touristy kiosk somewhere._

_It was a nice thought._

_He really missed Jason already. Will had gotten him a place at the Apollo table, so he wasn’t eating alone anymore, at least. But it was kind of nicer to eat with Jason, like there was this understanding and solidarity between them as kids of the Big Three. He missed the feelings he’d gotten watching Jason come over to his table automatically, like it was a given._

_The Apollo kids were nice, and Nico appreciated that Will was putting an effort into including him, but they had all these inside jokes as siblings, and sometimes it made him feel lonelier._

_Jason had never made him feel lonely._

_The next postcard came a few days later._

_It was a tacky, colorful collage of pictures from Disney World, with “The Happiest Place On Earth!” written across it in bright letters._

**Nico—**

**Okay, so we didn’t actually go to Disney World. I did try to argue that it was the most likely place for Leo to get lost in, but for SOME reason, “taking a look around the place” didn’t mean we got tickets or rode any rollercoasters. I’ve never been on a roller coaster, did I ever tell you that? What about you? **

**— Jason**

_Nico hadn’t either. Really, the only time he might’ve gone on a roller coaster would’ve been if the Lotus Hotel happened to have one in there somewhere. Anything was possible in there. Nico’s memories of it were admittedly a little hazy, but he was pretty sure there hadn’t been a roller coaster._

_He was pretty sure he’d hate them, honestly. But Jason probably wouldn’t._

_He had a brief image of them riding a roller coaster for the first time together, Jason grinning with excitement while Nico gritted his teeth and clutched at the safety bar._

_He brushed the thought away._

_Then, a few days later, it was a postcard that said “Greetings from New Orleans!” across the front._

**Nico—**

**I guess I don’t really need to use these to update you on the search, right? Because if we’d found him, you’d know already. We would’ve come back to camp first thing. We’ll be back before we leave for school. We’ll have to, so we can make sure someone ties Leo to Cabin 9 so he can’t pull something like this again.**

**Missing camp,**

**Jason**

_Nico started hanging the postcards up by his bed._

_The next one, a cheesy picture of a cowboy, with “Houston” in big letters—_

**Nico,**

**I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to jinx it, but I was really pinning a lot of hope to finding Leo in Texas. It seemed logical, right? He was born here. I was also thinking that if he were here, that would mean some extra time to hang around Camp Half-Blood before school starts up. No such luck, I guess.**

**Piper thinks we should try Europe before checking out the rest of the US. I think she’s thinking we circle back around so we end up in California just in time for school. That’s worse case scenario, though—that’s just if we don’t end up finding him on this quest.**

**I’ll really try to get to Camp Half-Blood before school.**

**Missing you,**

**Jason**

_Nico was stuck between the prick of hurt of not seeing Jason, and the way his stomach flipped at “missing you.”_

_He pinned the postcard up next to the others and tried not to think about it._

_It was a couple weeks before the next postcard came. Nico still checked his doorstep every morning._

_In the meantime, Will had made himself clear—he told Nico he liked him, that he wanted to be “more than friends,” if Nico was open to the idea. His straightforwardness about it was more startling than his crush._

_Nico didn’t know quite how to react, and Will had told him he didn’t have to answer right away._

_It was weird, because Nico almost felt guilty for thinking about it. A little like he was betraying Jason, somehow. Which was stupid, and ridiculous, because Jason had Piper, and Jason was straight, and Jason wasn’t even_ there _. Jason didn’t want Nico that way, and he never would, and Nico knew that. Nico’s feelings were inconsequential._

_Will, on the other hand, was here, in front of Nico, confessing his feelings in no uncertain terms. Nico knew where he stood with Will._

_It felt so simple. It felt so easy._

_After everything, something easy sounded nice._

_It wasn’t even that he didn’t like Will. Will was kind and relaxed and friendly—handsome, too, with bright, attentive eyes. Nico liked spending time with him, even though it always felt a little off, like puzzle pieces that almost fit._

_It would be nice, he thought, to fall for someone who could love him back._

_The day he agreed to go on a date with Will was the day the next postcard showed up._

_It was bent down the middle. On it was a photograph of the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland—sheer, beautiful cliffs that made Nico feel a little dizzy just to look at._

**Nico—**

**Sorry this one took so long! Flying is exhausting. I keep thinking how if you’d come with, we could’ve taken turns flying and shadowtraveling. But you hate flying, don’t you? Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I feel like you could’ve gotten used to it. The point is that I wish you were here.**

**Maybe that’s a weird thing to say. I’m sorry. I’m not that sorry, though. It’s just the truth.**

**— Jason**

_Nico got frustrated, almost angry. Why did Jason just… tell him things like that?_

_And how was he supposed to stop his stupid, hopeful heart from grasping onto it?_

_He traced a finger over the words. He believed Jason. And he wasn’t used to feeling wanted, or missed. Styx, why did Jason have to be so… Jason?_

_Nico didn’t hang this one up. He folded it along the crease in the middle and tucked it in a drawer._

_He canceled on Will that night, saying he felt sick. It wasn’t even a lie. His stomach had been twisting all day. Will was happy to reschedule._

_The next card came the day after Nico’s first kiss with Will._

_Their date had been somewhat of a disaster—they’d made the mistake of trying to leave camp for it. Will thought they could get coffee in a nearby town, and Nico shadowtraveled them there. It started off fine, if a little awkward. Nico wasn’t sure what to say, and he felt guilty at how excited Will seemed._

_They didn’t realize until they’d gotten to the coffeeshop that neither of them had thought to bring any money. They’d laughed about it, and Will suggested they just take a walk around the town instead. Nico didn’t want to admit his discomfort with just strolling around in public with a guy like that, so he agreed. But when he flinched away at Will’s attempt to hold his hand, Will probably figured it out anyway._

_Their conversation was stilted, nothing like the easy chatter at the Apollo table and Nico felt like it was his fault, like he was doing something wrong. After a while, Will stopped walking and gave him this curious, searching look._

_“We can just go back to camp,” Will had said._

_Nico hated how relieved he felt._

_When they shadowtraveled back, they ended up by the strawberry fields. Will laughed and apologized and promised that next time would be better._

_Nico had honestly been expecting there to never be a next time. He thought that Will would realize he wasn’t fun or brave or interesting and he’d stop. They’d have this one short awkward first date and then that would be all. Nico was so surprised that Will wanted there to be a second time, and he was so relieved he hadn’t driven another person off._

_So when Will asked, shyly, if he could kiss him, Nico said yes._

_It was nice. In the shade, the smell of strawberries in the air. Nico felt something unfamiliar—he felt like he had a chance at something real, for once. Not just another painful thing out of his reach. This was here, this was possible._

_Wasn’t that enough?_

_The next morning, the postcard on Nico’s doorstep made his heart crumple before he even touched it._

_It was a watercolor painting of the Notre Dame. Nico picked it up delicately and slipped back into his cabin, half-dreading reading it._

**Nico—**

**I’ve just been thinking about how many places we’ve all been, and how we haven’t actually gone anywhere. That doesn’t sound quite right but let me explain. We’ve traveled all around the world for quests—we sailed and flew and ended up everywhere. But I feel like I haven’t been to any of these places. You know? I mean, do we ever get to go somewhere just because we want to? I guess we’ll always have the problem of monsters showing up wherever we go, but it just feels like there’s always some mission we need to complete. We never get to enjoy all the places we go. If someone asked me if I’d ever visited Europe, my first impulse would be to say no.**

**Sorry, this is turning into me just complaining to you. I don’t mean to. I guess what I’m trying to say is I don’t actually wish you were here on this quest with me. Instead, I wish we could go somewhere together without there being a quest at all. Maybe we’ll be able to, right? Maybe Leo will come back on his own, and the world won’t be ending anymore, and we’ll all get to catch a break.**

**I hope so.**

**Sincerely,**

**Jason**

_Nico caught himself before he started reading into anything. Jason probably didn’t mean to make it sound like he was picturing him and Nico going on some vacation together—that was probably an accident. He was probably thinking about going to Disney World with Piper and Leo, and just didn’t think about how that sentence could sound._

_Then again, Nico’s eyes kept drifting back to “I wish we could go somewhere together” as he looked down at the card._

_Another one to tuck in the drawer instead of pin up on the wall._

_By the time the next card came, Will had called Nico his boyfriend._

_He’d said it sort of casually, offhand. When Will had seen how Nico froze up, he quickly backtracked—“I mean, sorry, I know we haven’t—but I mean, I do want—But if you don’t want—it’s fine, I’m sorry, I totally shouldn’t have—”_

_Nico’s brain finally caught up with Will’s rambling, after having a solid few seconds of feeling like a deer in headlights. He shook off his surprise and ignored the bit of discomfort and focused on the glow of being someone’s_ anything. _He tried to say something, ending up stammering back to Will—“No, no, it’s fine—I’m just—no, you just surprised me—I wasn’t expecting—”_

_Eventually, their mutual rambling softened out and they both kind of laughed, a warm, light energy between them. And, gods, it was so nice for a moment that Nico had the faint idea that he might be in love with Will._

_He wasn’t. He’d just felt seen and wanted and hopeful. He’d felt like it was going to make him fall apart, and in his experience, love was a very falling-apart feeling._

_So when the next card came, Nico had a boyfriend. And it was fine, right? Because Jason had a girlfriend. It was almost a relief, really. Right? They’d be in the same place, and Nico wouldn’t have to feel…_

_The card was a photograph of the canals in Venice. Nico felt a twinge in his chest that could’ve been homesickness, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just echoes of grief for a life he might’ve had._

**Hey Nico,**

**I’ve been trying to picture you as a little kid living here. But I guess I don’t really know anything about your childhood. We should fix that.**

**Side effect of being a demigod is that we don’t have a lot of happy memories to share. Comes with the territory. But it’s good, I think, to remember everything that made you who you are. I don’t have all my memories back yet, I don’t think. I’d like them all back. It feels like a part of me is still missing, and I can’t really figure it out.**

**Anyway. I miss you.**

**— Jason**

_The card felt oddly heavy in Nico’s hand. He found himself worrying, a little bit, if Jason was okay. He sounded… sad._

_Nico traced a finger over Jason’s name, imagining him writing it._

_The next card wasn’t long after that._

_Nico had settled into what felt like a real routine at Camp Half-Blood. He wasn’t sure if he could really call it home yet, but it felt less and less like he was going to have to leave suddenly. He’d stopped hiding out in his cabin in the afternoons._

_The card was a photograph of bright blue water with “Greece” written across the top._

**Nico—**

**It turns out that while I’d been pinning hope that Leo would show up in Texas, Piper was sure he’d be in Greece. We’re sort of running out of time and hope at this point, and neither of us want to stay in Greece long.**

**I guess I had to try, right?**

**— Jason**

You could’ve just stayed, _Nico thought to himself, pinning the card up without reading it over again._

_It was another couple weeks before the next one. Nico had stopped checking his doorstep every morning, so he almost missed it._

_A bent card with “Greetings from Seattle!” in black letters, above an illustration of the skyline and the sunset._

**Nico,**

**We were supposed to be in California at school by now, but we needed to stop to take a break, and we figured we’d look one more place. I can’t say I was anticipating Leo being here, but hey, you never know, right? I think we’re both dragging our feet a little because it’s hard to admit we failed.**

**Leo is alive out there somewhere. I just hope he finds his own way home.**

**I’m really, really sorry I didn’t manage to get back to Camp Half-Blood to say goodbye.**

**Sincerely,**

**Jason**

At least he’s sorry, _Nico thought, a hint of bitterness to it._

_It felt like they’d lost something, when Jason left. Like they’d lost something that Nico couldn’t even really make out through the mist._

_He thought he’d stopped hoping to see Jason before he moved to California, but it turned out he still had some sliver of a fantasy of it. He raked a hand through his hair, trying not to think about it. Trying not to picture it._

_He hated how much he still missed Jason. He’d thought he’d get used to his absence eventually, but maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe it would always sting, and Nico would always be able to feel the distance between them, each aching mile like a bruise._

_Whenever he found himself missing Jason, missing seeing that smile, he felt guilty, too, that he never seemed to feel anything to that depth with Will._

_There was only one last postcard after that, from Pasadena, California._

**Nico—**

**Come visit when you can?**

**— Jason**

**P.S. Please?**

\---

Nico had stopped looking at the door, staring down into his now-empty cup instead. He barely remembered drinking it. He hadn’t been present enough, he supposed. Too preoccupied with whatever was going to happen next.

What was going to happen next, apparently, was a gentle touch to Nico’s shoulder.

He flinched.

Jason pulled his hand back, raising it a little in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, smiling. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Nico ran a hand through his hair, taking a breath. He twisted the skull ring around his finger.

He felt sick.

“It’s, um. It’s fine. I was just… zoning out,” Nico mumbled.

Jason slid into the seat across from Nico. He tilted his head a little, furrowing his brow.

“You okay there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Nico started to laugh, helplessly, and then tried to cover it up with a cough.

“I’m fine. Totally fine.” _This is so, so unbelievably fine. Just fine. Absolutely fine._

“Sure,” Jason said. He didn’t look all that convinced, but he shook his head, dropping it. “So how long have you been here? I hope you didn’t wait too long.”

“Oh, I um. Just got here,” Nico lied.

There was a beat of silence where Jason’s gaze flicked down to the empty cup. Then flicked back up to Nico’s eyes.

Nico coughed again, feeling deeply, deeply awkward.

What in Hades was he _doing?_

He needed to tell Leo sooner rather than later. He wasn’t sure he could take this alone. 

“So…” Jason started slowly.

Nico rubbed the back of his neck. “Hm?”

Jason smiled. “You know, you never actually told me your name?”

“Oh.” Introducing himself to Jason like they didn’t know each other actually sounded like it might kill him.

“It’s only fair, you know mine.”

Nico tried to steel himself. He tried to smile. He wasn’t sure either worked.

“I’m Nico. Um. Nico di Angelo.”

“Huh.” A small crease appeared between Jason’s brows as he raked his gaze over Nico’s face. “That sounds… familiar.”

Nico felt his heart stop.

“Does it?” he said, keeping his tone vacant. Nonchalant. He had to try and play this without losing his mind.

“Yeah, I swear I’ve heard it before,” Jason said. He kept looking at Nico for a few long, breathless moments. He shook his head, letting out a small self-conscious laugh. “God, I’m so sorry, that totally sounds like a line.”

_A line? What is he talking about?_

“Um.”

“I swear, I wasn’t trying to be weird,” Jason said. “It really does sound familiar.”

Nico didn’t say anything.

“I mean, we _have_ met, right? You knew me.”

Honestly, Nico had kind of been hoping he’d just forget about that part.

Nico tried for a teasing smile. “If you don’t remember, I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Oh, come on,” Jason said, leaning forward a little. “Please? My memory is awful.”

Nico shook his head. “Nah. I’m not going to help.”

Jason let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, _fine._ I _will_ figure it out, though.”

A soft warmth rose in Nico’s chest and his smile turned genuine. That sounded like the Jason he knew for sure.

“I hope you do,” he said.

Jason blinked, like he was surprised by the shift in Nico’s tone. And he smiled.

 _Styx_ , Nico would go to Tartarus and back to see that smile. He’d tried to. 

“So. Nico. If you’re not going to tell me how we met.”

“And I’m not.”

“Right. Can you at least give me a hint?”

“Ha. No.”

“It can be a really vague hint?” 

“Not happening.” What could he even say? _Something to do with gods, did you know that the gods are real? You’re half god, actually. You can fly. I’ve flown with you before._

“Can I guess?”

Nico snorted. “You can _try.”_

“Alright, okay.” Jason paused, frowning a little. “Was it undergrad? I know there were some classes that I just fully slept through.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “ _You?_ Sleep through classes?”

“Look, I _tried,_ I really did, but my Mythology class just couldn’t hold my attention,” Jason replied with a laugh, holding up his hands.

 _Huh._ Okay.

“That does totally give me a hint though,” Jason said, shooting him a grin.

“Excuse me?”

“You were surprised that I’d slack off in class. So—you must’ve known me in school, right?”

Excruciating. This whole this was so deeply excruciating.

Nico forced a smile.

“Please, I wouldn’t have to know you from school to know you’re a nerd,” Nico replied.

“So you knew me well enough to tease,” Jason said. He smiled again, meeting Nico’s gaze with bright eyes. “Noted.”

_Gods._

“I just feel like I’d remember you.”

And the way he said it…

With that kind of familiar affection that Nico recognized.

Nico’s heart beat harder. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. He was at a complete and total loss.

_Jason._

He coughed, breaking the charged moment and looking away.

_Maybe Jason feels like he should remember you, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t remember any of it._

He didn’t know if this was Hera’s work or something else, but either way, Jason didn’t remember him. But maybe there was someone he did remember.

“Alright, I’ll give you a hint,” Nico said. He told himself it would be fine, that he could deal with it. He’d known Jason’s feelings, anyway.

“I’m ready, hit me.”

“Does the name Piper McLean mean anything to you?”

Jason frowned, hesitating. Nico kept his face neutral. He had to just take it in stride; it wasn’t going to be a surprise. After all, Percy had remembered Annabeth. It just made sense—it was better, even, because that meant Jason would have something to anchor onto and maybe that would make it easier to figure out what happened to his memories.

Nico would just have to accept the answer, and then he’d have to talk to Piper. He knew that they’d been broken up, but he couldn’t imagine she was completely over Jason. She’d agree to help, and he wouldn’t have to figure this out on his own, and it wouldn’t be his responsibility. It’d be another Percy-and-Annabeth style love story, and he could just let go of whatever was still left for him.

It’d be fine. It just made sense.

“No,” Jason said after a few moments. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

Well, Nico just had no idea what he was supposed to do with that. Frustrated, maybe, that the one thing he’d gotten from talking to Percy hadn’t helped.

Relieved, a little, in some small, hopeless way.

“Well, that’s all I’ve got,” Nico said with a shrug, hoping desperately that he’d managed to hide his reaction.

“Not fair, that doesn’t count.”

“It’s not my fault the hint didn’t work.”

“You _could_ just tell me.”

Nico smirked a little. “Figure it out yourself, Grace. I’ve never seen you give up on anything.”

Jason smiled, leaning forward on the table. “That’s another hint,” he said, sounding a little triumphant.

Nico, despite everything else, actually let out a sincere laugh. “It _really_ isn’t.”

Like anyone could know Jason Grace longer than thirty seconds and not see that relentless drive he had.

There was a lull, and Nico took a moment to study Jason’s face. He looked calmer—there was less of a sad, distant glint in his eyes than there used to be. His hair was longer, too, grown out from how he’d cut it at Camp Jupiter. He didn’t seem to have any new scars.

Nico thought about how he’d just been out there, somewhere, this whole time. All that time that he was searching, that Leo was, Jason was alive somewhere.

“Hey, I was thinking—” Jason’s voice brought Nico back.

“Yeah?” Nico said. He managed to sound normal, despite the clutching feeling in his chest.

Jason shifted a little, looking almost embarrassed.

“I’m, um. I’m new to the area. Just moved here, like, a month ago.” He shot Nico a tentative, hopeful smile. “Maybe you could show me around sometime?”

Nico blinked. That, he hadn’t expected.

Was this real? This couldn’t possibly be real. Hades and Hecate, something was seriously wrong with this situation and Nico couldn’t begin to understand what was going on.

“Sure,” he said. The hesitance in his tone was obvious enough that Jason’s smile faltered.

“You don’t have to or anything—” Jason started.

“No! No, um, I want to, I just…” Nico cleared his throat. “I haven’t explored around much, so…”

Jason brightened a little. “Even better, we can figure the place out together.”

Styx, this was going to kill him.

“Great,” he managed to get out.

“Are you free this weekend? I’ve totally been meaning to check out San Francisco, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Uh…”

Nico tried to think of a way to explain that it _probably_ wasn’t the best idea for a child of Hades and a child of Jupiter to wander around _San Francisco._ The Mist was bad enough there already, and who knows how much Jason would be able to see?

Not to mention that the touristy areas to visit were the piers, the bridges, and the shores. Everything was within view of the water. It was pretty decidedly Poseidon’s territory. Their lives had been pretty calm, but Nico wasn’t an idiot.

The children of the Big Three were never safe, not really. It paid to be cautious. And if Jason didn’t even _know_ he was a demigod…

_Seriously, how did he even survive this long?_

Leo’s theory of “monsters just leave you alone out of courtesy when you’re in your twenties” seemed like a nearly reasonable explanation.

“I’ve been wanting to check out the aquarium,” Jason added when Nico had been silent too long.

Nico had to stop himself from laughing. _The aquarium._

“You like the ocean?” Nico said, like he was just making conversation.

“Yeah! Or I mean… I think so. I haven’t lived near an ocean in a really long time. When I was…” He trailed off, frowning a little. He got still, his eyes distant.

Nico studied his face for a few moments. His lips were slightly parted, like he had lost the words right as they were on his tongue. He looked almost dazed.

“When you were…?” Nico prompted.

Jason shook his head and let out a small laugh. “Sorry, just hit with a memory.”

The whole world froze and Nico held his breath. “Oh?”

“This is gonna totally sound weird now,” Jason said with a sheepish smile.

“What is it?”

“I lived near the ocean when I was a kid… And I… nearly drowned when I was seventeen.” Jason glanced towards the window. “I _think_ I was seventeen when it happened.”

When he was seventeen. The ocean. Nico had to focus to keep his hands steady.

“And you still like the ocean after that?” he said mildly.

“That’s why it sounds weird, right?” Jason had this small, thoughtful smile. “I don’t remember _much_ about it… I remember a stabbing pain in my lungs. But even though I was drowning, I have this strange feeling. Like the ocean brought me back to shore to save me.”

Nico didn’t know what to make of any of this. It had to mean something, right?

“What happened after that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Jason said. He seemed a little confused, like he hadn’t thought to consider where that story went next. Like it was a memory with a solid end.

 _Like a memory with a death,_ Nico couldn’t help but think.

Because Nico _knew_ that Jason had died; he felt it. He just hadn’t _stayed_ dead, so something had come afterwards.

“I guess my mom must’ve moved us away from the ocean after that happened,” Jason said, but it sounded more like he was trying to fabricate an explanation that made sense than that he was actually remembering something.

“Your mom?” Nico said.

“Wait, no, that can’t be right.” Jason shook his head. “My mom died before I was seventeen. Maybe… an aunt, or something.”

Nico _desperately_ wanted to push at this, make Jason see that there were things about his life that didn’t add up, make Jason _want_ to figure out the truth.

Then again, a memory of nearly drowning and being saved by the ocean was kinder than a memory of being stabbed as a ship went down, dying on a quest that wasn’t even yours.

“I could show you around,” Nico offered, gently pulling Jason back. “Maybe not San Francisco, though. How about Tilden Park?”

The Berkeley Hills seemed like a safer place to start. Close enough to New Rome if they ran into any trouble, farther from the shore. Neutral ground, overall.

Plus the views were beautiful, and Nico had always wondered if Jason had ever gotten to see them, in his years living at Camp Jupiter.

“Sounds good to me,” Jason replied. He smiled like he was excited about it.

Nico smiled back, finding it a little easier to. 

\---

_Nico had the address, but he focused more on trying to find Jason himself as he shadowtraveled. It was an easier tether—he felt the thread pulling him there and followed it._

_He stepped out of the shadows into a small dorm room. A bookcase and a desk to one side, a bed and a wardrobe to the other. Jason was sitting at the desk, one knee tucked up to his chest. He was tapping a pen against his lower lip as he looked down into a notebook._

_Nico’s heart, unfortunately, stuttered in his chest at the sight of him._

_So he wasn’t over it, apparently. It seemed to have actually gotten worse._

_He swallowed hard, taking a breath to compose himself._

_“Nice place,” he said, managing a nonchalant tone. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped fully into the light from the window._

_Jason turned sharply, dropping his pen. The light on his desk flickered._

_“Hey,” Nico said, trying to smile._

_“Nico!” Jason’s face broke out in a bright grin and he jumped to his feet. He moved like he was going to hug Nico, but he hesitated, smile wavering slightly. “Um—”_

_Nico rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, come on.”_

_Jason wrapped his arms around Nico, pulling him close. Nico’s throat tightened and he tentatively hugged back. He could smell Jason’s detergent, something soft and welcoming. Underneath that, the faint scent of ozone. Nico could feel the static electricity coming off of Jason._

_When Jason pulled back, both too soon and not soon enough, his fingers shocked Nico when they grazed his arm._

_“Sorry,” Jason said, stepping away._

_Nico thought, distantly, of whether he’d get shocked if he kissed Jason. He pushed the thought away quickly._

_“So what were you working on?” Nico asked._

_“What?”_

_He gestured towards the notebook still open on the desk._

_“Oh. Plans for shrines for minor deities. I promised, so…” Jason cleared his throat, ducking his head. He moved to the desk to close the notebook and push it aside. “Trying to get all that together.”_

_“How’s that going?”_

_Jason sighed. “It’s more interesting than my homework, I guess. But it makes it harder to pretend to be a normal teenager going to school when I keep having to track down minor gods and goddesses to ask them about how they’d like to be honored.”_

_“Sounds like a lot.”_

_“Yeah, well. Can’t seem to get away from duty and expectation anywhere.” He shrugged a little and offered a wry smile._

_Jason walked over to his bed, sitting down heavily._

_After a moment’s hesitation, Nico followed, taking a seat pretty much as far from Jason as the bed would allow._

_“I’m sorry,” Jason said. “I wanted to come back to camp before school started.”_

_“I know,” Nico replied. He wasn’t really mad. He couldn’t be mad anymore, not with the relief of Jason being in front of him again. “I can’t believe you actually sent postcards.”_

_Jason grinned a little. “Did it make it harder to stay mad at me?”_

_Nico rolled his eyes, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Jason. Jason just laughed._

_It was so easy to relax into this. Why did it have to be so easy? Nico wanted to keep his guard up, but he honestly wasn’t sure how to anymore. Jason seemed to be able to make him forget his walls._

_“I heard you’re seeing Will Solace,” Jason said after a moment of silence. His tone sounded almost too casual, like he was forcing it._

_Which did, at least, pull Nico back from relaxing._

_“Uh—how did you…” Nico started._

_Jason shrugged. “Piper’s siblings update her on all the romantic gossip at camp.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“So…” Jason looked at him, smiling a little. “How is that going?”_

_How was it going? Worse with every moment he spent in proximity to Jason, Nico thought. It was easier to be content with Will when he wasn’t faced with the ache in his chest that Jason made him feel. When he wasn’t faced with the sheer difference in the weight._

_“Y’know. Fine.” This conversation was making him tense._

_“You like him?” Jason’s voice was gentle and warm, colored with an underlying concern._

_“Yeah, I think so.”_

_Jason’s smile seemed tight, a little forced. “Good. I’m happy for you.”_

_“Thanks.” Nico didn’t want to look directly at Jason. He ended up glancing around, studying the room. It was a little sparse, that just-moved-in look to it. Nothing on the walls yet. Nico thought about the collection of postcards on his own wall._

_“You deserve to be happy,” Jason added softly._

_Nico met Jason’s gaze again, helplessly._

_He was so far gone._

_He couldn’t keep doing this. It hurt._

_He made a decision, not quite consciously. He had to pull away. As much as it was a relief to be in the same room as Jason, he suddenly felt desperate for the miles that had separated them. It was easier to pretend like he could want something else, when he had that distance._

_Maybe it was better, that Jason would be in California. Nico could pull away without the guilt of seeing Jason not understanding why. He could make excuses for why he couldn’t visit. He could let their friendship fade, and maybe his feelings would, too._

_It’d be better that way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated! You can also find me on tumblr @official-mermaid, if you like


	3. the effort it takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So what are you going to do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten very attached to this fic very quickly. I still don't really know how long it's gonna be, so bear with me.  
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think!

It had been a while since Hades had called on Nico for any favors, so he hadn’t been spending much time in the Underworld. He still had a room in the palace, though it felt a little like time traveling, the way it was decorated and furnished the way he’d wanted when he was a kid.

In any case, he wasn’t _avoiding_ his dad, there just hadn’t been much cause to visit. Gods are busy, and they rarely pay much attention to the passage of time. Most demigods only ever saw their godly parents a handful of times, total. Hades probably hadn’t truly noticed that it had been nearly a year since they’d seen each other.

Nico wasn’t sure what he wanted to say—what he _could_ say. Would bringing it up put Jason at risk? Was it too dangerous to draw attention to, or would Hades look away like he always had with Hazel?

It was difficult to say. But Nico didn’t know where else to start, really. He was still hesitant to tell Leo. He was fully dreading talking to Piper, despite it still seeming like she was his best bet. And Jason was always a difficult subject to bring up, with any of them. The years hadn’t really softened the blow.

So to the Underworld he went.

Hades looked surprised to see him.

“Nico,” he greeted. Nico sort of felt like he always sounded halfway disappointed to see him, but he was pretty sure that was just what his dad’s voice was like in general.

“I have to talk to you,” Nico blurted out. He flexed his hands, nervous.

Hades looked at him curiously for a long moment. “Alright,” he said apprehensively. “You have my attention.”

“Jason,” Nico said simply.

Hades pressed his lips into a thin, tense line and his gaze darkened to a tired kind of annoyed.

“I thought you were through with this,” Hades replied with a sigh.

That sent a spike of anger through Nico, but he swallowed it back. He didn’t want to deal with explaining to an immortal god that grieving your friend wasn’t something you were just _through with,_ and he didn’t want to have to defend his own dedication to trying to find Jason _again._ He’d been over it.

It was _Jason._ If anyone didn’t understand why Nico couldn’t ever really give up on him, that was their own fault.

“Things have changed,” Nico said, as evenly as he could. “I need to know what you know.”

Hades narrowed his eyes. “You need no such thing. And _I_ need you to know that I do not know anything about Jason—”

“Come _on—”_

“Son, I cannot just keep track of every demigod around, you know. I am a very busy man.”

“Don’t… Don’t do that, I _know—”_

“I don’t know what you _think_ you know,” Hades said, raising a steady hand to silence him. “But it is of no consequence to me. I’ll tell you the same thing I told you the first time you came to me about this. I cannot tell you where to find him.”

“I don’t _need_ you to,” Nico said, the meaning heavy in his tone.

Hades studied his face for a moment. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

The apprehension lacing his voice made it sound like he very much _did_ know what Nico meant. Which meant that Hades had always known that Jason could be found. 

Nico raised an eyebrow.

“Further, I don’t think you know what you’re saying,” Hades went on. “I’d advise you to really _consider_ what path to take here. What you want may not be what’s best.”

Which was, of course, the exact kind of unhelpful cryptic nothingness that Nico had learned to expect from the gods. He always managed to maintain some hope that his dad was different, and in some ways it was true, but in others…

“You _know_ what happened,” Nico said, accusatory.

“I do not.”

“Dad—”

“Nico. Listen carefully. I have nothing to offer you here. If you _truly_ insist on following this through, I highly suggest you keep me very far out of it.” Hades turned away, like he was busy with something. He didn’t move to do anything, keeping still like Nico would just give in and leave.

“You knew something was going on back then, too.” The frustration was getting to Nico. _Years._ Years, he’d thought Jason was lost. Years, Jason had just been out there somewhere.

Nico was trying not to let himself think about it, but there was a real, physical pain that came with the idea that he’d lost all that time, forcing himself to believe that he’d never see Jason again. Sleepless, heartbroken nights, the heaviest grief Nico had endured since Bianca’s death.

How was he supposed to live with the idea that all that time, Jason had been alive?

If he let himself dwell on it, he might start imagining how they could’ve missed each other. How the only reason he knew better now was because of half a glimpse of a reflection on a rainy day. How easy it would’ve been, to have looked up seconds too late. How easy it would’ve been to lose Jason again without even knowing it.

He couldn’t help but wonder if it had already happened before—turning just a moment too late, never knowing the difference.

All this time. All this time, and Jason could’ve been found.

“Of all the gods to talk to about this, I am not one of them.” Hades glanced back again. “I apologize, Nico, truly. But I can’t help you.”

It almost sounded like he meant it, too, but Nico couldn’t buy it.

His sister had told him that Hades kids kept grudges.

“How could you just—” Nico started.

 _“Nico.”_ Hades’ tone was heavy and sharp.

“He’s _important_ to me, Dad,” Nico said.

It just sort of slipped out. As did the way Nico’s voice strained and cracked as he said it. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but in that moment, he felt small. He felt that little-kid desperation in the edges of his words.

Hades paused, seeming to soften.

“I know that,” he replied seriously.

Nico turned away, face getting hot. He didn’t want to be going through this. It hurt, in all these fresh, piercing ways. He just wanted Jason back, but everything he’d tried to stop _feeling_ was bubbling up.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew, he’d _known_ for a while, that he’d been in love with Jason. He had tried not to be. He pushed it away, he pushed Jason away, he tried to make the mismatched puzzle pieces fit with Will as best as he could. He told himself it would be fine.

He’d been able to fake it for a while. When Jason was in California and he and Will were at Camp Half-Blood, he’d managed to even make himself believe it, a little bit.

All those feelings that Nico had been shoving aside and covering up hadn’t gone anywhere. Clearly.

\---

_Maybe it didn’t help that the very last time Nico had seen Jason, they’d fought._

_A few months of living at Camp-Halfblood, hanging out at the Apollo table, teaching some classes to the younger demigods, dating Will, and Nico had started to feel pretty okay about everything. It seemed good enough to him. He had a home—it_ felt _like a home, more than anywhere else ever had._

_He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be completely comfortable there, because no matter what, he’d always be a son of Hades, but it seemed like people had gotten used to him. It was a relief. His powers still scared the others sometimes, and Will didn’t always seem to understand what he needed, but…_

_Well, it had been a really long time since Nico got to feel this much like he belonged anywhere._

_It wasn’t perfect, but Nico didn’t have to dwell on the imperfections._

_It helped, too, that no one had batted an eye at his and Will’s relationship. There’d been more confusion over their mismatched demeanors than the fact that they were both guys, and Nico had felt some weight slip off his shoulders._

_The only people left were the year-rounders, so the camp was less crowded, too. Nico liked the quiet._

_It was even emptier now—late December, Nico was one of the only demigods left hanging around. Even a good amount of the year-rounders had somewhere to go for the holidays._

_He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, reading the comics that Will had given him. Will’s nerdiness was unexpectedly sweet—it made Nico miss the way he used to love things unabashedly, too, so he was making an effort to get into Will’s thing. Will’s thing being superhero comics. They didn’t quite grasp Nico’s attention like they did for Will, but they were fun, at least._

_He was sort of zoning out as he read when someone knocked at his door._

_With a start, he sat up straight, closing the comic._

_Will wasn’t supposed to be at camp—and even if he was, he never knocked. He just walked in, that born-invited type air that Apollo kids seemed to have, like they were welcome in any room they liked._

_And no one but Will ever came to the Hades cabin. Even if people had gotten used to Nico, it didn’t mean they sought him out. Either he was there or he wasn’t—most people didn’t seem to mind either way at that point._

_Apprehensively, Nico went to answer the door. Percy, maybe? He’d invited Nico to spend the holidays with his family, but his invitation was colored with such nervousness that Nico took pity on him and refused. Or maybe it was Chiron with bad news. Maybe one of the few kids staying there had just gotten that lonely._

_Of all the possibilities Nico distantly sorted through in his mind, he didn’t even consider_ this _._

_Jason Grace, standing awkwardly on his porch, hands stuffed in his pockets. Looking winded and a little nervous, the light from the setting sun casting a glow in his eyes._

_“Jason,” Nico said, forgetting himself a little. In his surprise, it took him a moment to mask whatever starry, pained look must’ve struck his face. He hoped he covered himself fast enough to hide the swell of emotion._

_“Hey,” Jason said, forcing half a smile. “It’s been a while.”_

_It had. After Nico had visited Jason’s dorm room and realized that his feelings had only gotten worse with the distance, he’d tried to shut himself down. He made excuses not to visit, made himself busy when he heard Jason was going to be in town, cut Iris Messages short. Honestly, it hadn’t been particularly subtle, but Nico had been kind of desperate._

_And seeing Jason in front of him again, he felt like he’d been right to be that desperate._

_Because nothing had changed at all._

_“Guess so,” Nico said, keeping a casual tone. He’d managed to sound almost bored. Like he didn’t care one way or the other._

_Jason hesitated. He almost looked hurt, and Nico swallowed back some guilt._

_“Can I come in?” Jason said after a minute._

_Nico stepped to the side. There was a lot he could manage to make himself do to try to push Jason away; turning him away when he was standing there like that wasn’t one of them._

_Jason walked in and Nico closed the door carefully, holding his breath to steady himself. Gods, being in the same room as Jason was already so much._

_“So how have you been?” Jason asked._

_“Fine.”_

_“Feels like we haven’t talked in weeks,” Jason said, meeting Nico’s eyes._

_Yeah, because they hadn’t. Nico glanced around to avoid Jason’s gaze._

_“It hasn’t been that long,” he replied evenly._

_“It has.” Jason sighed a little. “Can you just… explain it to me?”_

_“Explain what?”_

_“Whatever I’ve done to make you avoid me.”_

_“I haven’t been—”_

_“You have.”_

_Nico crossed his arms over his chest, curling in on himself. He wanted to disappear._

_“I’ve just been busy,” he said. He could hear how unconvincing he sounded. “Seriously, Grace, it’s nothing, it’s fine.”_

_“It’s not nothing. It’s definitely not fine.” Jason took a step towards him and it took a significant amount of effort for Nico to keep himself from stepping away. “I’m not a mind reader, Nico. I’m not going to be able to figure it. Please just talk to me.”_

_“It’s nothing,” Nico repeated. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, itching to sink into the shadows. “Why are you doing this?”_

_“Because we’re_ friends. _Because I miss you.”_

_Nico really wished Jason would stop saying things like that._

_“You had to ambush me for that?” Nico said, a little unkindly._

_A flicker of frustration crossed Jason’s face. “Sorry, did I have another option?”_

_The edge in Jason’s tone was a surprise. Nico had never known him to have much of a temper, but Jason actually sounded like he might have some anger climbing to the surface._

_Nico scoffed._

_“I don’t know, Iris Message—”_

_“You’ve been ignoring—”_

_“Just any heads up—”_

_“Like you would’ve—”_

_“Y’know, phone call, smoke signal, email—”_

_“Nico—”_

_“Or, actually, you could’ve just taken the hint, Grace.” The words came out harsh, hissed out venomously._

_And they stopped Jason in his tracks. He closed his mouth, his jaw clenching. He gave a quick, stiff nod and a tight smile._

_“I suppose I could have,” he said, in an even, diplomatic tone._

_Nico recognized something in that tone, the distance he’d seen Jason put between himself and others so often, masked with a mild friendliness so people wouldn’t notice they were being held at arm’s length. Since they’d become friends, Nico had been exempt from that cool, professional aloofness._

_He hated how much it stung. Wasn’t this what he had wanted, anyway? He’d wanted to be distanced._

_After a long, still moment, Jason closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. When he looked at Nico again, the bare, hurt familiarity was back in his expression, like it had taken effort to return to it._

_“I didn’t_ want _to, though,” Jason said, quieter. He moved closer to Nico, reaching out like he wanted to touch Nico’s arm, but he stopped short._

_With aching effort, Nico stepped away from him._

_“Jason…” Nico’s voice was small. A little shaky. Too open._

_“Nico, come on,” Jason said, a hint of pleading in it. “You’re important to me. I need to know what I did. I’m sure I’m really, really sorry for whatever it was.”_

_He had that worried crease between his brows, a soft earnestness in his eyes. A bit of heavy sadness behind it. Nico’s heart felt like it was pressing at his ribs, urging him to get closer._

_Di immortales, he’d really missed Jason. He’d missed him desperately._

_“You did what you always do,” Nico replied._

_“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason didn’t sound mad anymore. Just tired._

_Nico groaned, dragging a hand down his face._

_It meant that all Jason had ever done was be himself, and that was enough. Nico had fallen for him too hard, and he couldn’t figure out how to not be in love with him. Jason was too kind, and warm, and welcoming—it was too easy to get caught in the daydream._

_Was it too much to ask, that Nico could just be happy where he was, with Will? Apparently, it was, because already, Nico couldn’t imagine how he’d ever stop wanting Jason._

_He crossed the room to his bed, sitting down heavily._

_“You don’t get it,” he said, trying to keep himself cold._

_“No, you’re right, I really don’t.” Jason followed, but he kept a few feet away, like he was scared to get too close to Nico. “Nico, I just—”_

_He cut off abruptly enough that Nico looked up. Jason’s gaze was fixed to the wall behind him, Nico realized with a pit of dread in his stomach._

_“Grace—” he started, his shoulders tensing._

_“So you can’t be_ that _mad at me,” Jason murmured, more to himself than to Nico, as his eyes dragged across the postcards, still pinned up where Nico could see them when he woke up every morning._

_He should’ve taken them down. He’d meant to. He just never seemed to have the heart to follow through._

_Nico pressed his lips together and kept very still, like anything he said, any movement he made, might reveal too much._

_As the silence dragged on, Nico felt himself getting smaller. He wanted to run away. He couldn’t be here anymore, the walls were closing in, the shadows were too heavy. He was afraid to look up at Jason, afraid of what he might see._

_Or, almost worse, what he might not see._

_What would hurt more, he wondered? If Jason could tell how he felt and pitied him for it? Or if the notion was so laughably distant for Jason that it wouldn’t even cross his mind in the first place?_

_When Nico finally looked up, he wasn’t sure what he saw._

_Jason was still staring at the postcards. He looked… sad. Lonely, almost. Nico didn’t know what to make of it._

Pity _, he thought to himself_. It’s probably just pity.

_“Do you plan on standing there all night?” Nico said dryly. “I did plan to go to sleep eventually.”_

_It was only sunset, but what did that matter?_

_Jason shook his head, like he was snapping himself out of something. When he looked back at Nico, he seemed strange. Guilty, maybe. A little struck._

_Nico raised an eyebrow challengingly. He wasn’t planning on giving anything away._

_“Is this because—I mean, do you_ know— _I didn’t mean t—” Jason stammered, a little breathlessly. He stopped himself, shaking his head again._

_“Jason?” Nico asked, frowning a little. He didn’t know what Jason was reacting to._

_“I know you’re with Will, I’m not trying to—” Jason cut off again, clearing his throat. He took a breath like he was trying to compose himself, but his face was still a little flushed._

_Nico blinked, confused enough to forget his defensive panic that had been building. Will? What did Will have to do with it? What in Hades was Jason talking about?_

_Jason seemed to steel himself. Nico watched as he pushed his shoulders back and lifted his chin, ever so slightly. His expression finally shifted into something more stoic. Son of Jupiter, Praetor Grace, leader of the Seven from the Prophecy._

_“If you really want me to go, I will. If this is too much for you, I—” Jason swallowed, and Nico caught a crack in the façade. They weren’t hard to see, actually, once you started watching for them. “I really don’t want to lose you, Nico, but if you don’t…”_

_Nico really wasn’t sure what Jason was getting at. He felt like there was something crucial he was missing here. Something to read between the lines, but Nico was just not sure what to make of it. If he’d wanted an opening to ask Jason for some space, here it was, but he was too lost to know how to take it._

_He was frustrated, and defensive, and confused._

_Then, his mind caught onto—_

If this is too much for you.

_Oh, gods, could Jason tell? Did Jason know how Nico felt, was he giving him this out in case Nico’s feelings were overwhelming? Was this pity, was it worry?_

_Nico wasn’t proud of what he said next._

_“Di immortales, Jason, you have an inflated sense of self-importance,” Nico snapped, his tone snide._

_Jason paused. “Sorry?”_

_“Oh, come on. Have you considered that maybe we just don’t have that much in common?” Nico pushed himself to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring. “You moved across the country, whatever. Maybe staying friends just hasn’t been worth the effort.”_

_Jason expression shuttered over, a cool distance taking over his face. He kept very still and steady._

_“I mean, honestly,” Nico went on, putting as much scathing irritation into his voice as he could. “You have Piper, I have Will. What’s the point, right?”_

_He threw it out as carelessly as he could manage. Jason’s expression didn’t change._

_“That’s what you’re going with?” Jason replied, even as ever, his tone unreadable._

_Nico shrugged, defensive energy buzzing at his skin._

_“It’s true, isn’t it?” Nico said._

_“No, it isn’t,” Jason said simply. There was a spark of restrained anger in his eyes._

_“You don’t have to pretend anymore. Shouldn’t you be relieved?”_

_Jason clenched his jaw. “Pretend? Are you kidding me?” He let out a short, sharp breath. “We’re back to this now? After all this time, you’re still trying to think that I’m pretending?”_

_Nico narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I guess_ I _don’t have to pretend anymore,” he said through gritted teeth._

_For a moment, it felt like there was electricity in the air. It seemed like it was coming off of Jason in waves._

_Nico didn’t think Jason could’ve looked more struck if he’d actually slapped him._

_“I_ know _you don’t mean that, but I don’t know why you’d say it,” Jason said. He spoke softly, the hurt just barely held back in his tone._

_Nico was tired, deep beneath his skin. Tired like he’d shadowtraveled all day. He felt like he could collapse. He brought a hand to his face._

_“Just leave me alone, Jason,” he said, casting his gaze to the floor in front of him._

_Jason hesitated. For a long, charged moment, Nico had no idea what he was going to do._

_But then, without another word, Jason left._

\---

So Hades was no help, but what else was new?

It had been a long time since Nico needed help from any gods. Since he’d needed any help from his family, either. He was pretty sure the last time that had happened was when he needed Bianca and she left him for the Hunters.

He was going to have to figure this out some other way.

He knew Jason was alive. He didn’t know how or why. He also knew Jason seemed to have no memory of Camp Jupiter or any quests. He didn’t even remember Piper.

Nico needed to tell someone— _desperately._ He was going to lose his mind otherwise. Nico wanted to try and talk this through with someone—normally, that person would be Leo.

There was the problem of how he could _possibly_ explain any of this to Leo.

He was going to see Jason again in a few days.

He kept thinking that maybe he should wait until after that to talk to anyone, just in case—

_Just in case of what, though?_

Nico was just waiting for the big reveal, that this was some kind of imposter designed to hurt him. When he was with Jason, it had been easy to be sure it was really him. It was easy to see those eyes, that smile, and think that it couldn’t possibly be anyone else.

But Nico kept doubting himself.

Gods, he couldn’t stand it.

This would be exactly the way to destroy him, if someone wanted to. He knew that. If someone had been looking to exploit Nico’s biggest weakness, it had worked. They’d found it, and Nico was already falling for it. He was beyond saving; he’d tipped past the point of no return.

Maybe that was why he was so reluctant to tell Leo.

He knew Leo would chew him out for keeping this from him—they weren’t supposed to _have_ secrets from each other, not anymore.

But if this was some kind of trick, some kind of lie…

Styx, Nico wasn’t sure how he’d be able to handle being told Jason was dead again.

Everyone had been doing so well lately—nothing was perfect because nothing ever is, but how could Nico drag them back into… whatever this was turning out to be?

He could only believe it when Jason was in front of him. He could only trust it when he was close enough to touch.

Maybe he needed to see Jason one more time before he could tell anyone. Just one more time, and then he’d have to tell Leo.

In the meantime, maybe he could find someone else to talk to. A more neutral party.

He shadowtraveled to Austin, Texas. Nico wasn’t still in contact with everyone he’d known from Camp Half-Blood, but he did more or less know where everyone had ended up. There were a few people he’d completely lost touch with—Thalia, for example, he’d have a hard time tracking down.

But Will Solace had always been easier to keep in touch with than most. He seemed to keep himself easy to find on purpose, and he’d updated Nico when he got into med school and moved back to his hometown.

Which was why Nico knew where to go.

He knocked on the door, a little hesitantly. Maybe he should’ve Iris Messaged first—he didn’t even know if Will would be home. Suddenly, he was _really_ hoping that Will wouldn’t be home.

But then the door opened.

Will’s eyes widened. “ _Nico?”_ he said.

“Hey, Will.”

“Is—” Will blinked, like he wasn’t sure Nico was really there. “Is something wrong at Camp?”

“Uh—no.”

“Okay,” Will replied. He furrowed his brow, but he stepped to the side. “Come on in, I guess?”

Nico took the invitation.

There was a long silence where the shock seemed to fade from Will’s expression, turning to an expectant stare.

Nico shifted uncomfortably.

“So how have you been?” he said. Stalling.

Will raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been fine. Which you’d know if you ever called or visited.”

Nico glanced back towards the door, a little longingly. “That’s… fair.”

“Put us both out of our misery and just tell me why you’re here,” Will said. If it was anyone else, it would’ve sounded angry—barbed and harsh. But Nico knew Will. There was that faint hint of warmth and teasing. Will wasn’t one to hold grudges.

“Am I that obvious?” Nico asked, trying to smile.

Will rolled his eyes, but he smiled too. “You show up out of the blue after avoiding me for, oh, let’s be generous and call it two years? Yeah, you’re that obvious.”

Two years _was_ being generous. Will had wanted to at least try to be friends after everything. Nico thought it better to cut their losses.

“Feel free to tell me to leave,” Nico replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, no, I _desperately_ want to hear this, I think,” Will said. He grinned, motioning for Nico to sit down at the table with him. “It’s gotta be good, right?”

“Uh, well—” Nico faltered as he took a seat. He glanced around Will’s place. Still stalling.

It was nice. Open and bright, full of color. It was exactly the kind of place he’d have pictured for Will. It was a little messy, too, with scattered textbooks and jackets flung over chairs. It looked comfortably lived in. There were instruments around, a guitar leaning against a wall, a flute in an open case on the coffee table. A shelf full of comics. Pictures in frames, of camp, of Will’s siblings. Some people Nico didn’t recognize, too.

His gaze caught on a photo of the two of them, tucked on a shelf. It was a strip of photos from one of those booths—he remembered Will dragged him to those a few times.

“You kept that?” Nico said softly, gesturing.

Will turned to look where Nico was pointing. He shot Nico a smile. “Well, yeah. Of course I did. I mean. It wasn’t all bad, right?”

Nico felt a twinge of guilt. “No, it wasn’t,” he agreed.

Will looked at him, clear blue eyes gentle. “Hey, no hard feelings, right?”

“Right,” Nico replied.

It was nice. Uncomplicated. Even after everything, Will managed to make things feel uncomplicated.

“So come on, I’m at the edge of my seat. What is it?” Will leaned an elbow on the table, halfway between curious and concerned.

Nico chewed at his lower lip.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

“We’re demigods. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Nico looked up at him, pained. Once he spoke the words, he wouldn’t be able to take them back.

“It’s… Jason,” he said slowly.

Will’s smile faded and a crease appeared between his brows. “Jason,” he repeated, his tone vague and unreadable.

“I saw him,” Nico said. He lowered his voice like he was worried someone would overhear. “He’s alive.”

“Jason’s alive,” Will echoed.

His tone was flat, like he was putting effort into not reacting.

“You don’t believe me,” Nico said.

“Nico—”

“Of course you don’t believe me. Why would you?” Nico groaned into his palms. “Fine, okay, I get it. I know.”

“ _Nico—”_

“I’m telling the truth,” Nico insisted.

Will looked a little sad, his lips pressed together and his head tilted slightly. “I don’t think you’re _lying,_ Nico,” he said, carefully, like you’d talk to someone having a mental breakdown.

Nico bristled. “Put your doctor voice away—I’m _not_ your patient.”

Will sighed through his nose, keeping his gaze on Nico with a tired kind a concern, that familiar, stale frustration. It was a tension that Nico knew from years ago.

 _No hard feelings, right?_ Nico thought wryly.

“Can you _give_ me a second to process?” Will asked, forced patience in his tone.

“This was a mistake,” Nico said tersely. “Sorry. I should go.”

“Nico, come on. Don’t _do_ that, don’t—”

“I don’t know why I came to you, I really don’t.”

“I’m _trying,_ okay?” Will ran a hand through his hair, frowning at the table. “Just… After everything you did, you can’t _blame_ me if—”

“I’m not—it’s not—” Nico sighed, twisting his ring on his finger. “I know how I sound, alright? I know. But it’s _true.”_

Will studied his face for a moment. “Okay. So tell me what happened.”

So Nico did. He explained the day in the rain, how he caught a glimpse of Jason’s face—Will looked less than convinced by that, but Nico pressed on. How he went back the next week to look, how Jason had been _there,_ how they’d spoken. How he didn’t remember Nico. How he didn’t seem to know he was a half-blood.

Will kept quiet as he listened. The doubt faded a little, into something more like uneasiness.

“And you’re sure?” Will said once Nico was finished.

Nico almost felt like laughing. It was all so ridiculous.

“I don’t know what to think,” he admitted.

“What about Leo? Or Hazel, or Percy?” Will pressed.

“I haven’t told anyone.”

“You came to me first?”

Will seemed surprised.

“I can’t bring this to any of them yet,” Nico said. He tapped his fingers against the table, restless habits he’d picked up from living with Leo.

“So what about Jason, then? His memories, they can’t be completely gone, right?” Will said. “He must want to know who he is.”

Nico frowned a little. “He doesn’t seem to realize anything is missing. He just, like, has a mortal life now, I guess.”

“It can’t be that simple.”

“Maybe it is, though. Maybe he wanted it this way.”

“Do you believe that?”

Nico pressed his palms together, trying to get himself to stop fidgeting. “I don’t know! I don’t know what I believe. But he seemed… happy, I guess.”

Will paused, seeming like he was considering it. “So he has no idea he’s missing any memories.”

“I don’t think so,” Nico replied. “His memories seem—glossed over? Sanded down or something. I asked his sister’s name and he said Tessa. He remembers almost drowning when he was seventeen, but not…”

“But not being stabbed and dying?” Will filled in.

Nico shrugged a little.

“So that’s why you’re not telling the others,” Will said. “Why you came to me instead.”

“Um. What?”

“They’ll all go to the ends of the earth to get Jason his memories back.” Will tilted his head a little as he looked at Nico. “But you’re not sure.”

“That’s not it,” Nico argued.

“Isn’t it?” Will replied. “You’re thinking if he’s just had a life this long, if he’s survived and been fine, and if he doesn’t know everything he went through…”

“Fine, maybe,” Nico said sharply. It had been lingering unacknowledged in his mind, in some guilty corner. “Maybe, okay? Maybe I’m not sure about whether I should even try to get his memories back. Is that wrong, though? Jason’s life, his story, it _sucked._ He deserved better, so. Maybe this is what that looks like. Maybe _this_ is what he gets now.”

“It’s not simple,” Will said, like an agreement. “What would you want? In his place? If you lost memories that were painful. Would you want them back?”

Nico paused.

“I _did_ get them back,” he said quietly. “I went through a lot to get them back.”

The memories from before. Memories of his mother, of Italy. He knew how desperately he’d wanted to remember.

Nico scrubbed his hands down his face. “But I don’t know what _he_ would want.”

“Why don’t you ask?” Will said simply.

Nico stared at him for a moment. “Oh, right, sure, why not? _Hey Jason, did you know that you’re a demigod with some real traumatic memories? I think you’ve forgotten them, but let’s see about getting them back, shall we?”_

Will cracked a smile. “I’m not saying give him the full rundown. Just, y’know, the SparkNotes of it.”

“The SparkNotes?” Nico repeated.

“Right, born in the thirties, never really went to normal school until now,” Will said, half to himself. “I mean just. You could give him a sense, right? You don’t have to make yourself sound like a crazy person rambling about gods. Just… offer him the choice?”

“But he’ll say yes,” Nico said.

“Then isn’t that your answer?” Will replied, furrowing his brow.

“No!” Nico said, frustrated. “No, because he’ll just be agreeing out of curiosity. He doesn’t _know._ He’s been living with fake memories for years—fake memories that seem like they might be _better._ What if he says he wants to remember and he regrets what he finds?”

“Nico.” Will leaned forward, his voice soft.

“What?” Nico replied, crossing his arms.

“Come on. Knowing what you know about Jason Grace. Tell me. Would he rather live a quiet life with fake memories, or would he want to know the truth about himself?”

And of course, Nico knew the answer to that. Jason would want the truth, even if it was hard, even if it hurt.

That didn’t make it feel better. It wasn’t _fair._

Selfishly, Nico also just didn’t want to have to be the one to remind Jason of every horrible thing that had happened in his life. He didn’t want to have to break whatever gentle spell was letting Jason forget all the hurt.

“So what are you going to do now?” Will asked.

Nico looked down at his hands.

His heart ached. He didn't want to be just another person in Jason’s life who was expecting him to be something, looking at him like he _knew_ him. He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t add to the weight that Jason had dealt with his whole life. 

This other life Jason had been given—it seemed like so much had been lifted away from him. He was free of the things that he’d confided in Nico had made him feel trapped. This version of Jason was something like the version of him that existed underneath the layers of expectations and duty.

But Nico didn’t want to be just another person in Jason’s life making his choices for him, either.

So what could he do?

\---

_He could try to claim it started slow, but it wasn’t true._

_It started immediately after leaving Hades’ palace in the Underworld._

_Nico had never really been the kind of person to do things in moderation. With a few notable exceptions, when he felt things, he felt them deeply and desperately. He was already falling off the edge the moment he felt Jason’s death, and he had absolutely no intention of trying to climb back up._

_He decided what he wanted to do. He wanted to find Jason. He wanted to save him._

_After he’d worn thin trying to find a way to bring Bianca back, she’d told him that she’d been hoping he would give up on his own. It was why she hadn’t come when he’d called. Well, Jason’s ghost hadn’t come when he’d summoned either._

_Just like with Bianca, until Jason’s ghost was willing to show up to him and explicitly tell him that if he loved him, he’d let it go, Nico was going to keep trying. Whatever it took._

_He didn’t bother telling anyone at Camp Half-Blood what he was doing. He just left. They could hear the news and figure it out for themselves. He couldn’t make himself worry about what they’d think._

_Will had barely crossed his mind at all._

_It went on like that for months._

_Nico would stop at Camp Half-Blood when he needed to rest that badly or pick up some more ambrosia and nectar for the road, but he kept his visits short and infrequent._

_When he did show up, it was because he didn’t have a choice. He was usually barely on his feet._

_He never explained himself, but it seemed like people caught on to what had happened._

_Every time he showed, people tried to talk to him. Percy, Annabeth, Will. At Camp Jupiter, it was Hazel, Frank, and Reyna. Once or twice, Nico had run into the Hunters and Thalia._

_He let them talk, but he never really listened._

_That was just Nico’s new normal._

_He was trying to make it back to his cabin, just to rest for a couple hours before taking off again. He was running on empty—bruised from the monsters, faded from the shadowtravel. Honestly, it was one of those days he felt more dead than alive, but he wasn’t all that concerned about it._

_He just needed to rest and he’d go back out there._

_Will was following him to his cabin—presumably, everyone at camp had the understanding that when Nico showed up, they’d get Will right away, because he always seemed to know when Nico was there._

_“This isn’t healthy—” Will was saying, his voice bordering on desperation. “You have to stop.”_

_Nico bit back the first scathing words that came to mind. The urge to hurt people so that they would give up on him had been bubbling up for a while now, sending cruel thoughts whenever he was given an opening. He was pretty much constantly on the verge of snapping at people these days._

_It wasn’t fair, but it was what it was. It wasn’t Will’s fault that he didn’t get it, but honestly, it wasn’t Nico’s fault he couldn’t explain it either. There was a fundamental disconnect as far as Nico was concerned—if you didn’t already understand, then there was no point in reasoning through it. You got it or you didn’t._

_And Will didn’t._

_“Just leave me alone,” Nico muttered, drained and dizzy from too much shadowtravel._

_He stumbled, his knees weak and his head pounding. Will reached out to steady him, but he flinched away. They were just yards away from Cabin 13._

_“Don’t touch me,” he said, no venom in his tone. He’d meant to say it with more bite, but he just didn’t have it in him._

_Will pulled away, this sad, sorry glisten in his eyes. “Nico…”_

_Nico sighed, desperate to get away from every part of this. “Just don’t, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”_

_He’d heard it already. He’d heard it plenty. From his dad, from people reaching out to him like they were friends, like they cared. He was supposed to give up, wasn’t he? It was what everyone was asking him to do._

_When he entered his cabin, Will followed him in._

_“There’s only so much I can deal with,” Will said, his voice quiet. “There’s only so much I can watch you put yourself through.”_

_Nico settled onto his bed, wincing at the aches and pains. He closed his eyes._

_“So don’t,” he replied simply._

_“What?”_

_“Don’t watch it anymore.”_

_“I don’t—”_

_“I’m not asking you for anything. So you can just stop.”_

_It was blunt, it was cold. It was unkind. It was all he could offer._

_“Nico, come on.”_

_Will reached out, hand barely brushing against Nico’s arm before Nico flinched away again._

_“I said don’t touch me.”_

_When Nico opened his eyes again, Will was watching him carefully, gentle and full of some distant regret._

_Nico remembered how they started. Two kids at the end of a war, something bright and shiny to distract from everything they’d been through. Will was kind, and uncomplicated, and Nico half loved him for that. It had felt real. It had been real, in its own way._

_Maybe they could’ve been something, in a better world. Maybe Nico was always going to end up here again, pushing away anyone who tried to help him. It was impossible to say what might’ve happened._

_“I’m not interested in your prescription, doctor,” Nico said, forcing a humorless smile. “Healthy isn’t a priority these days.”_

_“He wouldn’t want this for you, either,” Will said. It was amazing, Nico thought, how Will managed to say such cutting things in such a soft tone._

_“Fuck you, Will,” Nico replied tiredly. “Don’t tell me what he’d want.”_

_“You know I’m right.”_

_“Yeah, well. Who cares?”_

_“I do.”_

_“Sorry.”_

_He almost meant it, too. But his heart wasn’t in it. And that was sort of the problem, wasn’t it?_

\---

If Nico wanted some time and space to figure out what he wanted to do, he wasn’t going to get it easily.

True to her word, Hazel was serious about making sure she and Nico saw each other again as soon as possible.

 _We’re all coming—me, Frank, Percy, and Annabeth. We’ll come to dinner on your side of the tunnel, so no excuses,_ she’d said in her terse Iris Message.

Leo had been pleased by the change of pace, at least. Nico wasn’t sure he had the full presence of mind to interact with anyone, but he was going to have to try to fake it.

Maybe he should’ve told them already. It was starting to feel like there was never going to be a good enough time to say anything.

It had helped to talk to Will—well, sort of. On the one hand, Nico just felt relieved to get it off his chest at all. On the other hand…

Well, he didn’t know what to do now, and it was eating at him. He was going to see Jason again tomorrow, and maybe things would be clearer then. For tonight, he just had to get through dinner with his sister and his friends and hope that he managed to act halfway normal.

Leo had picked the restaurant—he’d chosen _Nico’s_ favorite Italian restaurant.

One of the little ways Nico and Leo communicated that they were there for each other was always doing small nice things without mentioning it. Neither of them brought it up, because it was sort of understood that any expression of gratitude over it would just make them both uncomfortable.

The gesture was enough, the message was received.

_I’ve noticed, and I’m here._

Nico told himself, a little guiltily, that he’d talk to Leo soon. He’d tell him about Jason the next good chance he got.

The restaurant was warm and comforting—it put Nico more at ease than he would’ve been otherwise.

It helped, too, that there were six of them this time. It was simpler to fade into the background of conversation between Percy and Leo’s chatter. Easier, too, to just exchange amused glances with Hazel in between jokes and stories.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to how everyone else was doing. Annabeth had heard from Thalia, apparently—the Hunters were in Canada for the moment. Nico was never sure, in the lull, what the Hunters did to keep busy.

“The Stoll brothers have been doing pretty well as camp directors,” Percy offered as news. “Chiron says they’re really good with welcoming the new campers.”

“Can’t imagine them being _responsible,”_ Annabeth said.

“Better them than Clarisse,” Percy replied. “I can’t _imagine_ her teaching. Those sword fighting classes must be brutal.”

“Has anyone heard from Piper lately?” Nico said, casually, like he was making conversation.

Hazel gave him a curious look. “Yeah, I talked to her recently.”

“Yeah, she’s doing great. Her dad moved to New York to be closer to her,” Leo said. “There was a whole thing about how _Tristan McLean_ wanted to be a more _serious actor_ so he was trying his hand at theater.”

“Yeah, she was complaining that he’s been overbearing, but she seemed really happy,” Hazel added with a smile. “It seems like they’re really getting along.”

“Why were you wondering about Piper?” Percy asked Nico. He managed to make it sound casual, too, but he was staring at Nico a little too intently.

“I was just thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve talked to Reyna,” Nico said with a shrug. “Realized I didn’t really know what Piper was up to either.”

“You should _really_ call Reyna,” Annabeth chided.

Percy nudged Annabeth. “We should make sure to catch up with Piper while we’re in New York.”

“You’re going to New York?” Leo asked.

Annabeth glanced at Percy, and it looked like they had a brief, silent conversation.

“Yeah, we have to visit Percy’s mom,” Annabeth said slowly. Like there was more to it.

Hazel frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Annabeth replied. “It’s, um. Just news that we wanted to tell her in person.”

Percy and Annabeth exchanged another quick glance.

“We’re engaged,” Percy said softly, the excitement clear in his smile.

The whole table froze for a moment.

“Sweet Hermes, it took you long enough!” Leo exclaimed, breaking the silence.

“Well, you know how it is,” Percy said with a small laugh. “Waiting for the other shoe to drop all these years. We didn’t want to jinx it with a wedding.”

At that comment, he shot a slightly worried look Nico’s way.

Once the silence was broken, there was a flurry of excitement.

“Congratulations!” Hazel said, leaning to hug Annabeth, whose cheeks were flushed as she grinned.

“Champagne, we _gotta_ order champagne—do they have that here?” Leo said, craning his neck to look for the waiter.

Frank leaned onto the table eagerly. “Who proposed? How’d it happen? Where’d you get the ring?”

“ _Yes,_ tell us everything,” Hazel insisted. 

Annabeth launched into the story—Nico tried his best to listen.

It was sweet. Annabeth had spent hours trying to find a nice way to propose—she bought blue cupcakes from Percy’s favorite bakery, spelling out the question in frosting. She surrounded the table with candles, made a collage of pictures of the two of them, and had a whole speech planned—

Then, while she was trying to drag Percy into their apartment to have her moment, he proposed to her on the welcome mat before she could open the door.

“If he’d waited _thirty seconds—”_ Annabeth was saying, glaring at Percy.

Nico was relieved that their news seemed to take up much of the rest of dinner.

_So Piper hadn’t moved, but if she was mostly busy with her dad these days…_

Well. Nico could figure out when he needed to talk to her.

\---

_When Nico got attacked for being somewhere he shouldn’t have been yet again, he ended up at maybe not the best place he could’ve shadowtraveled to._

_He’d gotten hurt a fair amount these past several months. He had lost track of how many times, just like how he’d lost track of how many months he’d been doing this, just like how he’d lost track with where almost everyone in his life was these days._

_Most of the time, he’d been able to either fix himself up, get some reluctant help from Hades or Persephone, or rely on some nearby stranger who had a vague sense of what had happened._

_This time, dealing with some particularly unfriendly wind gods, he certainly hadn’t been able to call on his dad for help. He was too far out of his dad’s domain, and Persephone had returned to the Underworld for the fall. Not to mention he was up on a barren, hostile mountain, so it wasn’t like there were any good Samaritans to offer a hand. He didn’t want to admit it, but this was beyond his own skills, too._

_He’d run himself too ragged; he wasn’t going to be able to deal with this injury on his own. He needed help. He was out of ambrosia, out of nectar, out of a general capability to remain conscious and upright._

_There were some options he could’ve explored before going to the one person who seemed like they might want to kill him more than they’d want to help, but Nico was absolutely not interested in care or comfort right now._

_He could’ve gone to Percy. Percy would’ve helped. Percy also would’ve been obnoxiously stressed, and would’ve tried too hard to convince Nico to stop getting himself into trouble like this._

_He could’ve gone to Will. He knew Will was still at Camp Half-Blood—he would’ve been easy to find, he was a healer, he would want to help. But Nico couldn’t deal with him right now. They hadn’t had a great track record with being in the same room since the breakup, and he was pretty sure Will was still trying to save him._

_He did not want to be saved. He just wanted to get his damn sword arm fixed so he could throw himself back into danger. Anyone who would try too hard to stop him from doing that was out of the question._

_Which easily cut out the possibilities of going to Reyna, Hazel, or Annabeth. The three of them might’ve been the only people with a sliver of a chance of genuinely stopping Nico from hurting himself any more. He would’ve hated to see the looks of concern and disappointment on Reyna and Hazel’s faces, and Annabeth was not above locking him in a room until she could get through to him._

_Frank would feel too much of an obligation to him because of Hazel. Going to any sort of actual adult certainly wouldn’t work—Chiron or Percy’s mom or the women from the Waystation in Indiana. Anyone at Camp Half-Blood would feel a need to tell Will, same with acquaintances from Camp Jupiter with Hazel._

_Leo might’ve been an option, if Nico had the faintest clue of how to find him. He knew his way around fixing things, which Nico felt was close enough, and he hardly had enough of an attachment to Nico to put too much effort into stopping him from leaving again. Not to mention that Leo was never around Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter anymore, so at the very least, if he did tell people what happened, Nico would have enough time to bail before they could find him again._

_But Leo was, much like Nico, missing in action. Nico didn’t really know what was up with him, and he hadn’t cared much to find out. He had a one-track mind these days._

_Nico didn’t go through all this reasoning consciously to come to his decision. He didn’t have the presence of mind to understand his own logic before he made the shadowtravel jump to Brooklyn._

_It wasn’t until he’d fallen against the door, bracing his good arm on the wall next to it, that he’d fully realized where he’d gone._

_He was debating the pros and cons of shadowtraveling away again, knowing full well that it would almost certainly kill him in that state, when she opened the door._

_Piper stared at him, her deep, brown eyes wide and confused._

_“Nico?” she said. She didn’t sound mad to see him._

_“Hey,” Nico managed to get out before crumpling to the ground._

_“Nico, what the fuck?” Piper said. She pulled him back to his feet, dragging him inside and half-dropping him onto her living room couch. Her cheeks were flushed and she was frowning at him, but he couldn’t really figure out why._

_He had a faint realization that he was probably getting blood all over her couch, and he opened his mouth to apologize, but instead ended up vomiting on the floor._

_“Hades, Hecate, and Hermes, di Angelo, what the hell happened?” Piper muttered, moving into action. She threw a towel down next to the couch haphazardly, leaving a small plastic bucket on top._

_He groaned in response, realizing now that he’d stopped moving just how much pain he was really in._

_He vaguely noticed Piper leave the room, walking briskly and tying her hair back. She came back with a first aid kit, ambrosia and nectar._

_She sat down delicately on the edge of the couch, which meant her hipbone was pressed against his side. If he was in less pain, he might’ve felt weird about it, but he didn’t have it in him._

_“Nico, what did you do?” Piper murmured. She took his arm, tilting it carefully in her hand to assess the damage._

_He squeezed his eyes shut. That wasn’t a question he wanted to answer._

_He hadn’t gotten a good look at his arm, but he couldn’t imagine it was pretty. He’d gotten stabbed and burned, and the pain was overwhelming._

_“I’m going to have to Iris Message Chiron,” Piper said._

_His eyes flew open again. “No, don’t,” he replied, his voice cracking with urgency. “Don’t. Please.”_

_“Nico—”_

_“I swear, I will shadowtravel out of here right now,” Nico said. “Don’t.”_

_“That’s ridiculous. You need help.”_

_“Not from Chiron. Please, Piper. Please don’t call anyone.” His voice had edged into begging, which was a little humiliating, but he didn’t feel like he had a choice._

_She pressed her lips together, studying his face. He didn’t like how it seemed like she could see right through him. Maybe it was a child of Aphrodite thing._

_She let out a soft string of curse words._

_“I swear, you’re all trying to give me a heart attack,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. She poured some nectar over his arm and Nico inhaled sharply at the cold sting of it. “This is ridiculous. Can’t even try to put my life back together because I’m too busy dealing with how much everyone is trying to get themselves killed, and how am I supposed to deal with any more losses right now?”_

_“Everyone?” Nico repeated._

_Piper picked up the damp washcloth she’d brought over and started cleaning the blood away._

_She frowned. “Okay, fine, not everyone. Just Leo and now you, but Hades, I’m tired of it already.”_

_“Leo?”_

_She shot him a glare. “Why me? Why come to me?” she said, seeming like she was trying to cover the concern with a shade of anger._

_Nico blinked._

_“I didn’t know where else to go,” he said honestly. He was feeling too dizzy and nauseous to say anything but the truth._

_She faltered, her hand stilling for a moment. Then she sighed. “That’s what Leo said, too.”_

_Nico, too late, processed the concept that Piper would even be upset about losing_ him.

_He closed his eyes again, gritting his teeth as Piper cleaned his wound. Her hands were gentle and careful, though they seemed to be trembling a little against his skin. He kept hearing her letting out little sighs and curses as she worked._

_“What happened?” she asked eventually._

_Nico had been dipping out of consciousness but her question pulled him back, and his eyes fluttered open. The pain had been keeping him from passing out entirely._

_“Uh—” He wasn’t sure what to say. The truth? The truth was just that he was getting really desperate and scraping the edges of possibilities. The truth was that he didn’t have enough self-preservation concerns right now to weigh the danger against the odds and make a calculated choice about what to do._

_What happened was the same thing that kept happening: Nico was throwing himself into the fire for a shred of a chance to find Jason._

_“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled._

_“I’d like to know anyway,” Piper replied._

_“No, I mean—” He let out a short huff. “It doesn’t matter because it didn’t work. I didn’t find him.”_

_There was a long, steady pause. Piper kept working on his arm, and the wound started to throb more than sting._

_“You really love him,” Piper murmured._

_Nico bristled. “That’s none of your business.”_

_She shot him a hard look._

_“It became my business when you showed up bleeding on my doorstep.”_

_“Fine, then I’ll go.”_

_She sighed, pressing a palm to his chest as he made an attempt to sit up._

_“Don’t be stupid. You wouldn’t get anywhere if you tried to leave like this.”_

_She was right. Nico knew she was right. He settled back again, sighing and closing his eyes. He felt too raw for any of this, too exposed. It wasn’t fair that she could just say shit like that, like it was that simple, like it was that easy. Maybe he’d gotten more comfortable with people knowing he was gay, but this…_

_It had taken a god ripping it out of him the last time Nico had admitted deep feelings. He sure as hell wasn’t about to spill his secrets to the ex-girlfriend of the guy he—_

_“It’s okay, you know,” Piper said gently. “You don’t have to pretend. I get it.”_

_“Just… stop.”_

_“I won’t push you.” She paused for a moment and he could feel her watching his expression. He put as much energy as he had into keep himself still. “But I’m not going to judge you. For any of it.”_

_The sincerity in her voice sounded like an echo of Jason’s for a moment, and it was too much for Nico to handle._

_“Drop it,” he said._

_“Sure,” she replied. She sounded a little distant. Maybe a little sorry._

_Finally, the pain dulled enough for Nico to pass out._

_When he woke up again, his arm was aching but bandaged. Some clean towels were folded on the table, like an offering, next to some more ambrosia and Piper’s cornucopia. There was a note._

**Don’t go anywhere. I still need to check your bandages.**

**Please eat something.**

**— Piper**

_Nico left before Piper could come back._

\---

Nico was too restless to sleep. The night felt darker in all the uncertainty.

He wanted to know something— _anything._ It was hard enough to not know what to do; he needed to know something about how they’d gotten here.

It wasn’t that far away, where Piper had washed up on the shore without Jason. Nico knew where it was—it was a beach in California. He could shadowtravel there from home and it wouldn’t take much out of him.

He didn’t _want_ to go there. But he felt… like he had to.

Like there might be some answers to find there. Jason had memories of the water, even if they’d been softened into memories of a near-drowning rather than a murder in battle.

Something there, something in that ocean, had brought Jason to some other shore, as Piper broke down on the beach, thinking Jason was dead and his body lost at sea. Something had saved Jason and hidden him away.

There had to be answers _somewhere._

Nico wanted _anything._ Any sliver of insight.

He gave up on trying to sleep and melted into the shadows.

The beach looked so calm for a place where something so horrifyingly painful had happened.

He walked along the sand, hesitant to get too close to the water. He wasn’t sure what he’d exactly he’d been looking for, but it became clear that he’d found _something._

A woman seemed to materialize nearby. Nico knew that the beach had been empty save for him moments before, but suddenly, there she was.

A tall, beautiful woman with hair the color of seafoam that cascaded over her shoulders. She was gazing out at the water, the breeze moving her dress like waves. It looked like she was attracting starlight with the way she shimmered against the night.

Nico knew a goddess when he saw one, but he didn’t recognize her.

He waited, uncertain.

The gods hadn’t been appearing much lately. It was unusual enough that Cupid had visited Nico’s dream. The gods hadn’t gone completely silent, but there just wasn’t much call for their interference or guidance lately.

The prophecies of their lifetimes were over. Nico figured it would be some time before the next.

When it became clear that this goddess wasn’t going to approach him, Nico got to his feet and walked over tentatively.

He’d been looking for answers. Here was his best chance.

She didn’t turn to look at him, but she seemed aware of his presence.

If he knew who she was, he’d have an easier time greeting her respectfully. As it was, he opted to stand there, following her gaze to the horizon.

The moon was full and bright, reflected in the stillness of the ocean. The waves lit up with bioluminescence as they crashed against the sand.

“There is something you seek?” the woman said after a few long, quiet minutes.

“It seems you already know,” Nico replied. She wouldn’t have appeared if she didn’t.

“Presumptuous, Son of Hades.”

“Am I wrong?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she began to walk towards the water.

Nico followed suit. They stopped just beyond reach of the waves.

“You know what happened here?” she asked.

“Not all of it,” Nico replied. He never got the full story from Piper. He never asked for it. “But enough.”

The goddess traced her hand in the air in front of them, and Nico got more of the story than he’d wanted. Images flashed in front of him, of Jason swinging a sword, of his grim, determined expression as he got hit and wouldn’t fall. Of the chaos of the ocean around the battle. The ship being dragged to the depths.

Mercifully, the image of Jason getting killed didn’t appear. But Piper’s reaction did. Her anguished scream rang in Nico’s ears, the heart-shattering look of loss in her eyes burning through the darkness.

The vision faded away into the calm of the ocean. Nico took a shaky breath.

“Strange, isn’t it? The way a place can hold echoes of what happened there, while the surface remains serene.” The goddess turned to meet his gaze. Her eyes looked like the depths of the ocean. “Do you know me?”

“No,” Nico replied honestly.

“Hm.” She almost seemed to smile. “I suppose that’s not a surprise.”

“Do you know what happened to him?” he asked.

“Bold,” the goddess replied. “Asking your question before asking my name.”

Nico waited, not apologizing or amending.

She studied him for a moment, in a detached way. Like she was trying to decide his worth.

“Very well,” she said. Nico guessed he passed whatever assessment she had. “You wish to know if I saved him that day.”

“To start,” he replied. It wasn’t quite what he was wondering, actually. But considering that she volunteered it, he imagined she _had_ saved him.

It was a relief, already, to have this piece of the puzzle. He didn’t know what had happened, not yet.

But he knew, at the _very_ least, that Jason had been saved that day.

The goddess took a while to answer, the gentle waves filling the silence.

“There is an amount more freedom in being a minor deity,” she started. “We don’t get the large, shining temples, the notoriety or the worship. Some of us were all but faded into obscurity before your friend chose to extend the offer of honor and recognition.”

“So who are you?” Nico asked.

“Oh, now you ask!” the goddess replied. She looked over at him, a good-humored glint in her ocean eyes. “My name is a good one to know, for those who are unsafe at sea. I’m Leucothea. I answer the prayers of sailors in distress.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

Leucothea nodded like this didn’t surprise her. “But Jason Grace had. I was one he sought to offer recognition to.” She tilted her head and reached out her hand again, offering visions of Jason visiting her, with plans for a temple. “He called to me that day, asking for forgiveness that he wouldn’t live to see my temple built. Asking for me to bring his friends to safety.”

That sounded like Jason. Accepting his own fate, only asking for help for others. Nico loved him and hated him for that selflessness.

“His friends were going to make it to the shore without my intervention,” Leucothea went on. She turned to look at Nico. “But he wasn’t.”

“He was supposed to die that day,” Nico replied. “He _did_ die. Gods aren’t supposed to interfere with that.”

Leucothea smiled. “Dear child of death, you take issue with what I did?”

“No,” Nico said. How could he, if it meant Jason was alive? “But… Why?”

He had to ask. When did the gods ever protect them or save them without a price, without a reason? Again and again, the gods proved that they never cared about the heroes.

Why should this be different?

Leucothea actually looked a little offended. “Son of Hades, what good is power and worship if we cannot offer earned kindness and mercy? To what end are the gods here? Hardly fair, isn’t it, that the favor of the gods so often results in tragedy rather than peace.”

Nico stared at her, skeptical. “Doesn’t sound much like any god I’ve spoken to before.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Leucothea replied. “Minor gods and goddesses have a wider range than the Olympians you’re more familiar with.”

A breeze circled them. Nico didn’t answer. He’d learned not to trust the kindness of gods.

“I remember what it is to be human.” Leucothea looked back out to the ocean. She flattened her hand and moved it like she was stroking an animal. A crashing wave dissipated into a gentle ripple, as though soothed by her touch. “Gods cannot fix everything, nor save everyone. Sometimes, though… We get the chance to offer the good that we can.”

Nico needed to ask the other question. “So… how?”

“I did not act alone,” Leucothea said. “There are things beyond my power. But, Nico, I’m sure you can imagine that I am far from the only minor deity with a fondness for Jason Grace.”

“So who else?” Nico asked. How Jason was alive was answered. Where his memories had gone wasn’t.

“That’s not for me to say.” Leucothea looked at him. Her eyes flickered with whitecaps in the waves. “I think you’ll find I’ve offered you all I can.”

Nico knew when he was being dismissed. He felt a prickle of frustration, but he’d already gotten more than he’d expected. He bowed.

“Thank you,” he said, putting all the sincerity he could into it. _Jason was alive._ No words of gratitude could really sum up a reaction to that. “I’ll see to it that your temple gets built.”

Leucothea smiled distantly and faded into the sea mist without another word.

Nico watched the waves for a few more moments. If he’d had any chance of sleeping before, he didn’t anymore.


	4. the end of the line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Like I said, it’s hazy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing my best.

Nico kept turning over his conversation with Will, and everything Leucothea had said. He felt strange, untethered. None of it felt quite real yet. He was trying to wrap his mind around what he knew, what he understood.

It would be simpler, he thought, if he could just ask Jason about which minor deities he’d contacted. And which ones had seemed to react well. Nico needed to know who else had saved him if he was going to figure out the issue of his memories.

It was easier, too, to think about what gods might’ve been behind this, rather than try and imagine how he could tell Jason about the memories in the first place. He felt an urge in the pit of his stomach to protect Jason from the memories, protect him from the heavy sadness that always seemed to linger in his gaze. He felt an urge to protect Jason from all that baggage.

On the other hand, he wanted _his_ Jason back so much that it was hard to breathe.

He was also having trouble concentrating at all—

The idea of seeing Jason again was making it hard to keep still. Nico had gone years without him, and now, a few days felt too long.

Well, the years had felt too long to go without him, too, but Nico had resigned himself to it. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to say he’d ever _gotten over_ Jason’s death, or _moved on_ from it, but he could tentatively claim to have accepted it. Much as it hurt, Nico had more or less grown accustomed to the pain of his absence.

And now…

He _missed_ him.

The hurt had come back full force, and it was sending Nico back to those sleepless, grief-filled nights.

He wanted to know what to do. He wanted to know what to say. He wanted all of this to hurt less.

After sufficiently going in circles in his mind, Nico managed to stop himself from fully spiraling and left his room.

Leo was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter with his coffee.

“Morning, angel,” he said brightly. “You’re up earlier than usual.”

“Yeah, never went to sleep,” Nico replied distantly. “And don’t call me _angel.”_

“Well, luckily, I made a full pot of coffee _just_ for you,” Leo said, gesturing grandly towards the coffeemaker.

“Uh—thanks, but I’m good, actually.” He was keyed up enough as it was. If he had any caffeine on top of his frenetic, fractured thoughts right then, he might just vibrate into the shadows.

“Any reason for the whole not-sleeping thing?” Leo asked. 

“Maybe,” Nico replied vaguely. He leaned against the counter. “Hey, can I borrow your car today?”

Leo shot him a skeptical sidelong glance. “You? Borrow my car? Dude, do you have a license?”

“I mean, no,” Nico said. “But I was also born in the 1930s in Italy and look like I’m in my twenties, so. Can’t really bring my birth certificate to the DMV.” It had been hard enough to figure out a way to enroll in a mortal college. Annabeth had ended up figuring that out for him—he hadn’t questioned it.

“Can you even _drive?”_

“ _Yes,”_ Nico said, rolling his eyes. Sure, he didn’t drive _much,_ but he’d gotten around to learning.

“And would you be good to drive on no sleep?” Leo said. “Because, dude, if you hurt Jasmine—”

Nico scowled, mildly offended. “I do _just_ fine on no sleep.”

“What would you even _need_ my car for?” Leo went on. “Where do you need to go that’s driving distance but that you can’t shadowtravel to?”

Well, that was a longer answer than Nico wanted to deal with. “Uh…”

Leo’s eyes widened. “Wait, is this what you’ve been so weird about?”

“Um…” Nico tried to think of an excuse. He drew a blank.

“Holy Hephaestus, di Angelo, do you have a _date?”_

“No,” he snapped back. _Definitely_ too quickly, because Leo started grinning like a cat with a canary.

“Oh, you _gotta_ tell me now. Did you meet some cute mortal guy in class? Is that what happened? What’s his name? Where are you taking him?”

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like he might be getting a headache. “Never mind, I take it back. I don’t need your car. I’ll figure something else out.”

“No, wait, dude, I’m cool. I’ll be cool.” Leo put his hands up in surrender. “I swear.”

Nico shot him a glare. “It’s _not_ a date,” he said icily. 

“ _Whatever_ you say,” Leo replied meaningfully, eyes wide in exaggerated innocence. “Anyway, sure, you can borrow my car. I got nothing going on today.”

Well, he didn’t manage to get Leo off of _that_ assumption, but Nico could live with that for now. He wasn’t going to waste his energy—he knew better than that. If Leo latched onto something, good luck prying him off it before he was ready.

“Thanks,” Nico replied.

Leo winked. “Have fun on your not-a-date.”

\---

_The last straw was Tartarus._

_Nico and Leo ended up in each other’s orbits because of their mutual reckless persistence. Despite what anyone else said, they were both refusing to give up, no matter the cost._

_While Nico had been wearing down and destroying his relationship with Will, Leo had done the same with Calypso._

_Leo told Nico later that it had ended with an explosive fight—yelling, screaming, throwing things. Calypso was furious that Leo was so impossibly focused. Tearfully, in the middle of fighting, she’d asked him_ Am I not enough for you? _And he’d told her no, she wasn’t. He loved her, but he also loved Jason—Leo told her that she’d never be enough, that he needed his family, too._

_Something might have burned down if they hadn’t been separated. Leo hadn’t gone back to see her since._

I don’t know what she expected, _Leo said to Nico at one point, in tired frustration._ I was just being honest. She asked. It’s not my fault she didn’t like the answer.

_It was a sharp contrast to the way Nico and Will had unceremoniously faded, without any one, single moment that could qualify as the breakup, fizzling with a low, empty bitterness. It matched the rest of their relationship, Nico thought uncharitably. Lacking depth._

_After Nico had shown up at Piper’s doorstep and heard that Leo had done the same, he started to notice signs of where Leo had been._

_Singed trees, stray bolts and wires, broken or altered equipment. Irritated deities sighing_ Not again _when Nico would show up, as though they couldn’t deal with demigods one more time this century. Leo and Nico, it turned out, had just missed each other a handful of times._

_There was one time where they both showed up at the same place at the same time, and that was the last stand for them both._

_Tartarus._

_Nico had certainly never intended to go back, but in his desperation, he didn’t know what else to do._

_His father had given him the one clue—that he’d never be able to tell Nico where to find Jason._

_There were a lot of things that could’ve meant, Nico supposed, but Tartarus kept lingering in his mind as a possibility. How Jason would’ve ended up there, Nico had no clue—but if he were there, not even Hades would dare to acknowledge it._

_It was a chance, at least, and Nico had decided that any shadow of a chance was enough for him._

_And so, he went willingly into the depths for a second time._

_The horrors he’d seen there and the torture he’d suffered was something seared into his memories, his nightmares. He could’ve lived a thousand lifetimes without ever thinking about that place again. Meanwhile, Leo had no idea what he was getting into._

_They ran into each other at the entrance._

_Leo had grinned, grim and humorless._ I was wondering when I’d see you.

 _Nico hadn’t returned the smile._ Are we going to get this over with?

After you, Prince of Darkness.

Don’t call me that.

_And they took the plunge into Tartarus, their last desperate attempt to find Jason._

_They survived. Barely._

_And they realized together, after everything they went through down there, that it was time to stop._

\---

Nico stood outside, staring at the small apartment building. It was on a quiet, residential street, mostly houses. There was a flowerbox full of hyacinths to one side of the main door, some vines inching up the building on the other side.

Nico didn’t know nearly as much about architecture as Annabeth or Jason did, but the building was pretty. It looked like the kind of place Jason would’ve chosen—older, with some newer added-on sections, like it had a previous life as something else before being turned into apartments.

Jason had asked for his number so they could figure out how to meet—he’d been just as shocked to learn Nico _didn’t_ have a phone as Nico had been about the fact that Jason _did._ Cell phones were like a beacon announcing your presence to every monster in the area— _how_ had Jason stayed safe?

Instead, Jason had written an address on a slip of paper, telling Nico to show up at ten in the morning.

He kept staring at the door, not sure where to go from there. Jason hadn’t told him the apartment number, so it wasn’t like he could knock. And he was, predictably, half an hour early. He was just lucky he’d managed to stop himself from being full _hours_ early again. The temptation had been there.

Nico turned away from the door, thinking he’d just wander until it was time, when he saw Jason walking towards him, two to-go cups in his hands.

The shock of seeing him again made Nico stop breathing. He wondered if it would ever stop feeling like _this,_ like a full-blown miracle to see him, those electrically blue eyes, that tentatively friendly smile. Nico’s heart was about ready to leap out of his chest.

He had to swallow back the emotion, quiet himself. There were _so many reasons_ he couldn’t feel that way. He seriously needed to keep it in check.

“Oh, hey,” Jason said. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, misjudged traffic,” Nico said. He nodded towards the cups. “What’ve you got there?”

Jason held one of them out to him. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d want. Figured mocha was usually a pretty safe bet?”

It was Nico’s favorite, actually, but that was probably a coincidence.

“Thanks,” Nico said, taking it. The cup shook slightly in his hand. He hoped Jason didn’t notice.

Jason smiled. “Wanna come inside for a minute? We can drink our coffee and talk about the plan for today.”

“Sure,” Nico replied, a little relieved by the idea of sitting down and getting his lungs and heart under control.

He followed Jason into the building. Inside, the place looked like it might’ve been a bed and breakfast once, old flowered wallpaper and an abandoned front desk in what seemed like the lobby.

Jason led him up a flight of stairs before stopping at his door. He struggled with his keys for a moment before they got into his apartment.

Nico paused in the doorway, feeling strange. The threshold seemed to have an odd quality to it that Nico couldn’t quite place. Something shimmering at the edge of his vision. It felt a little like the Mist, though it didn’t seem quite right.

He brushed it off and stepped inside.

“Sorry about the mess,” Jason said.

“The mess,” Nico echoed flatly.

Jason’s place was nice—one main room with a couch and a chair, bookshelves lining the walls, a small kitchen tucked to the side. It seemed near-perfectly clean. Nico could only imagine that by “mess,” Jason meant the single mug on the kitchen counter by the sink or the small pile of mail that was on the coffee table, or the couple of unpacked boxes in the corner.

Then again, maybe Nico’s standards for what counted as messy were warped from living with Leo for too long.

Inexplicably, looking around the room, at the neat stacks of books and the sparse decoration, Nico felt a little like crying.

“So you just moved here?” Nico said, eyes drifting across the bare walls.

“Yeah, I guess it shows,” Jason replied with a small, self-conscious laugh.

Nico’s gaze caught on the single framed picture, on the wall by the door. It was a photograph of the canals in Venice.

 _A coincidence,_ Nico thought.

He gestured. “You been?”

Jason glanced at the photo. “Not yet. Haven’t done much traveling at all, really.”

Nico kept looking at the photo, partially to avoid meeting Jason’s gaze. He thought about that postcard Jason had written him—where he said he felt like he’d never actually _been_ to any of the places they had to travel to for quests.

“What about you, have you been?” Jason asked.

“Yeah,” Nico said, a little distantly. “I was born in Venice.”

“Oh, yeah? What was that like?”

“I don’t remember it that well,” Nico replied. Even when he’d gotten his memories from before the Lotus Hotel back, they were still cloudy. Frozen images and feelings, mostly. His mother’s laughter, walking to school with his sister, rain through a window.

“Yeah, my childhood is pretty hazy, too,” Jason said.

Nico turned to him with interest. Jason had taken a seat with his coffee at his kitchen table and gestured for Nico to join.

“What _do_ you remember?” Nico said as he sat down. He tried and failed to make it sound casual, picking at the lid of his cup.

“Is that it? Did we know each other as kids?” Jason asked.

Nico took a long sip of his mocha, ignoring the question.

“What did you say your sister’s name was? Tessa?”

“Uh—yeah.”

“Did you grow up with her?”

Jason tilted his head, a little curiously. His eyes got a faraway look in them, like the sky blue over the horizon. “No,” Jason said. “I don’t think I did.”

Nico watched him for a moment. “You don’t _think?”_ he repeated.

Jason’s lips twitched up in a slight smile. He shrugged one shoulder. “Like I said, it’s hazy.”

The Mist was Nico’s first instinct—just like how Hera had messed with Jason before. There was a lot the Mist could do. But this didn’t seem like it was that simple. Nico couldn’t quite grasp what felt off here—it felt just out of reach.

Jason shook his head, seeming to brush away the fog. Nico watched his eyes regain their clarity.

“So I looked up Tilden Park,” Jason said. “It looks nice—I was thinking after we finish our coffee, we could head up there for a while, you can show me around. Afterwards, we could go back downtown for lunch, if you want?”

“Sure, sounds good,” Nico replied.

“You know there’s a merry-go-round in Tilden Park?” Jason asked.

Nico raised an eyebrow. “I did. You’re not gonna make me go ride it, are you?”

“ _Could_ I make you?” Jason said, sounding amused.

“Not a chance.”

“No, just wondering if we could take a detour to drive past it.” He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture. “Y’know, I’ve never actually been on a merry-go-round.”

“They’re not particularly thrilling,” Nico replied. He paused a moment. “Have you ever been on a roller-coaster?”

“Uh—” Jason blinked like he was trying to remember. “I don’t… think I have.”

Nico paused for a moment. Maybe he was hoping that Jason would realize there was something wrong with his memories on his own. But that distant, confused look in his eye didn’t seem to be leading anywhere, and Nico cleared his throat.

“I know where the merry-go-round is. We can drive past it,” he offered.

\---

_If pressed, Nico wouldn’t be able to say for sure how much time he and Leo were trapped in Tartarus._

_In the end, they spent more time clawing their way back out than they did looking for Jason. While Tartarus was vast and spiraling, lost demigods weren’t exactly subtle there. Nico had some practice being invisible, and it helped that he was a child of the Underworld, but Leo was attracting attention left and right._

_It didn’t take them long to come to the conclusion that if Jason were down there, he would’ve been standing out like beacon of light._

_Nico could use the shadows to blend in—even Leo did manage, eventually, to conceal himself in the fires. But Jason was a son of Jupiter, and the sky had no place in Tartarus. They would have been able to find him if he were down there._

_Even after realizing they’d fallen into the pit for nothing, Nico couldn’t bring himself to regret it._

_It was enough that it was for Jason; he sort of figured that if he died down there, so be it._

_He might’ve been less determined to find a way back out if Leo hadn’t been with him. Nico had a strange relationship with death, in general—he didn’t fear it. He didn’t dread it. He’d nearly gotten himself killed enough times for the threat of it to lose its sting._

_Besides, he had a room waiting for him in the Underworld palace. Now that he could hardly stand to be in Cabin 13, that was the closest he got to having a home. Nico understood, distantly, that he should be more concerned with keeping himself alive. He just wasn’t._

_But Leo was with him in Tartarus._

_And Leo had cheated the words of a prophecy and sacrificed his life, only to bring himself back. Nico couldn’t let him die in Tartarus._

_“Why haven’t you just left me yet?” Leo said at one point, his tone just short of kidding. They’d just narrowly managed to get away from a group of empousai—Leo had nearly fallen for their charmspeak and Nico had to drag him away. “I mean, just throw me to the monsters as a distraction and bail, right? They won’t chase you right away if they’ve got me.”_

_Nico stared at him. Struck. Horrified. Leo tossed it out like any of his other comments, but it had a shade of seriousness to it, like he was really wondering._

_“You really think I’d do that to you?” Nico said, his voice low. The air felt thicker in his lungs, making it harder to breathe._

_Leo shrugged, not quite making eye contact. “Might as well. One of us should make it out.”_

_Nico halfway wanted to hit him for the suggestion, but he was frozen. He knew that, with the exception of Hazel, he’d had to fight tooth and nail to get any of them to trust him. Even Percy had looked at him with skepticism, like he was always two steps away from betraying them at any moment. Jason only really came around after seeing Nico’s secrets pulled from him._

_But Nico also kind of thought they’d gotten past that, after the war. That even if they didn’t all want to be his friend, they at least trusted him. He thought—_

_He didn’t know what he thought. Maybe it was always a lost cause._

_“I wouldn’t do that,” Nico informed Leo coldly after a few long moments of silence. “And if you can’t believe it for any altruistic reason, at least believe that I don’t want to be alone down here any more than you do.”_

_Leo winced a little, glancing over at Nico. Clearly hearing the icy tone. “I didn’t mean—”_

_“I don’t care what you meant, Valdez. We’re both getting out of here.”_

_One of the things that Nico had in common with Leo, apparently, was the urge to run away._

_It was something that Nico hadn’t known about Leo. He hadn’t known much about Leo, truth be told. Nico had been trying his hardest to know the crew on the Argo II as little as he possibly could, with the sole exception of Hazel._

_Leo was easier to avoid than the others, because Leo hadn’t seemed like he particularly wanted to get to know him, either. In the brief time they overlapped with him, Percy and Annabeth made their awkward efforts as always, much as Nico shoved them off. Frank tried for Hazel’s sake. Piper seemed to already know more than she let on. And then there was always Jason, insistent and stubborn._

_But Leo? Nico hardly even saw him._

_Nico had assumed, more or less, that he and Leo had nothing in common. He’d sort of written Leo off as an over-the-top class clown type who didn’t know when to shut up. He wasn’t wholly off base, but that wasn’t anything close to the full picture._

_Nico might’ve felt bad about it in retrospect, except that Leo had written him off, too, as a cold, kinda creepy loner who couldn’t take a joke._

_They might’ve kept those assumptions forever, if things had gone differently._

_It’s interesting, how much time you get to talk when you’re stuck in Tartarus. Nico wouldn’t have known, since he’d been alone the first time, but it turned out there was so much time spent hiding and waiting that you couldn’t help but talk._

_“Finally putting the skills I got as a kid to good use,” Leo muttered, more to himself that Nico, as he craned his neck to make sure they hadn’t been followed._

_“What, you run into a lot of angry Titans as a kid?” Nico replied quietly. It seemed like they’d lost their pursuer, but they couldn’t be sure._

_“Running. Hiding.” Leo sighed, a little wearily, looking too tired to crack a joke. “Got a lot of practice with it.”_

_Nico wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Maybe any indication that there was more to Leo than he’d assumed would’ve surprised him._

_“Me too,” Nico said, like an offering. “Ran away from Camp Half-Blood when I was ten, after—” He was pretty sure the words would never stop being hard to say. “—after my sister died.”_

_Leo didn’t reply for a few moments._

_“Grief can’t catch you if you don’t stop moving,” he ended up saying._

_Nico nodded. He understood._

_It got a little easier to talk to Leo. They found some common ground, at least._

_“I’m no good with organic lifeforms,” Leo was saying, a little awkwardly. He shoved his hands into his tool belt, but he didn’t pull anything out but a small tin of mints. “Get that from good ol’ Dad, I guess. Machines, they make sense. People, not so much.”_

_“I get it,” Nico replied with a sigh. “I’m always more at home with the dead than with the living. The dead don’t want things from you in the same way.”_

_“It’s more straightforward to be dead?”_

_“Something like that.”_

_Leo half-smiled. A strange sight, given their surroundings. “Calypso told me that I treated everything like a machine. Problems that need fixing, right? Maybe you’re like that—thinking of everyone as a pre-dead person.”_

_Nico forced a smile, avoiding the prickle of discomfort that came with Leo’s brand of teasing. “Well, I wouldn’t be wrong.”_

_“Cheery,” Leo replied. “Can’t imagine why anyone thinks you’re creepy.”_

_“Yeah, just like how I can’t imagine why anyone thinks you’re annoying.”_

_“Oh, I work very hard to be annoying.”_

_For some reason, Nico caught on to that comment. The wry self-awareness in it, the bit of self-deprecation. He thought, maybe, that he wasn’t the only one here familiar with the kind of self-hate that makes you emphasize your flaws to drive people away._

_“You succeed,” Nico said dryly. But he looked down at his hands, thinking maybe he could be honest. “Y’know, sometimes, I work pretty hard to be creepy, too.”_

_“If people are gonna think it anyway, why fight it, right?” Leo said. The humor was draining from his tone. “Might as well make it yours.”_

_“When people are afraid of me—” Nico cut himself off for a second, taking a frustrated breath. He knew there were people who would always be scared of him, no matter what he did._

_“At least it’s something you can work with?” Leo offered._

_Nico shrugged half-heartedly. He had gotten to the point where the discomfort and fear brought him a cold sort of satisfaction. Because, yeah, that was something he could work with. He knew what to do with it, he knew how to use it. He knew to expect it._

_It surprised him how Leo seemed to understand._

_“I figured I’d just never fit in,” Nico admitted._

_Leo made a vague gesture. “The living,” he said._

_Nico nodded. “Organic lifeforms, I guess.”_

\---

Leo’s car looked relatively normal at first glance. Sleek and white—nice enough, but fairly nondescript. If you looked closer, in the glint of the sun, you could see the Celestial Bronze that was built into it.

It was always kind of a hazard, using any machine with Leo’s touch. He tended to go overboard.

Nico kept both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road as he climbed up the thin, twisting roads of the Berkeley Hills.

“Any music?” Jason said, reaching for the radio.

“Uh—” Nico said. “This is, um, my roommate’s car. Best not to… touch anything.”

Nico wasn’t sure exactly what the car could _do—_ he tried to avoid pressing any buttons if he wasn’t completely confident he knew what they were for.

Jason put his hands up. “Sure. Is he weird about it?”

Nico snorted. “He’s weird in general,” he said dryly.

As soon as the words came out, he felt a strange twist in his chest, talking about Leo to Jason. Jason had _known_ Leo. They’d been best friends. Nico had a vague image of what this might’ve been like, if Jason knew who he was, if he had his memories.

_Can’t believe Leo let you borrow his car—can’t believe you asked to—are you sure this is safe?_

_Probably not, let’s not test anything—_

_Is it bad that I want to hit random buttons to see what happens?_

_Yes, very bad, don’t do that—_

An easy daydream—almost like it could’ve been a memory—

“Hey, you alright?”

Jason’s voice pulled him back.

Nico cleared his throat. “Fine.”

“Okay—you just looked… shaken. For a second there.”

This was fine, Nico reminded himself. Completely fine. It was going to be fine.

“So what have you been up to these past few years?” Nico said casually.

Jason glanced at him with a smile. “You know, I could catch you up on everything if you just tell me when we last saw each other.”

“Nice try.”

Jason shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

“Really, though. You said you just moved to the area, so where were you before this?”

“Denver. I was in school.”

“Denver,” Nico echoed.

He probably hadn’t been to Colorado in years. He probably hadn’t _thought_ about Colorado in years. There wasn’t a lot of god or demigod activity there, honestly. The Rockies were sort of a neutral zone. When the Labyrinth was still around, Colorado Springs had its moments of being central, but that had been a decade ago.

“What made you move out here?” Nico asked.

“Nothing in particular—just one of those things, I guess,” Jason said. “I guess I felt like I missed it.”

“Missed what, California?”

“Something like that.”

Nico glanced over, wondering. He was pretty sure Jason hadn’t mentioned remembering California. Just the ocean.

Jason was looking out the window at the passing trees, some tension by his eyes. Nico wasn’t sure how someone could look the same as ever and so different all at once. Maybe it was something in the easy tilt of his head, or the way his voice sounded light. Maybe it was the time and distance that had passed, the years that separated Nico with memories of memories of memories.

“Your tattoo,” he said suddenly, realizing that Jason had pushed his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows. He stared at Jason’s arm just a moment too long before looking back at the road. The _SPQR_ , that eagle, the lines…

“What?” Jason replied, turning to look at him.

“What does it mean?” Nico asked mildly. Like he didn’t already know.

“Oh—uh…” Jason let out a slightly nervous laugh. “You know what? I’m not sure. I don’t know that I remember getting it.”

 _Realize something is wrong,_ Nico begged in his mind. _Realize there’s something missing._

But Jason just shrugged and pulled his sleeve back down, a little self-consciously.

Nico tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

The moment passed, and they drove by the merry-go-round. Jason all but stuck his head out the window like a dog to look up at it, making comments about all the colors. 

\---

_There was one night in Tartarus—maybe the last time they ever slept there, night and time and sleep were hard to keep track of—where their nightmares were stranger._

_Afterwards, they agreed to never fall asleep at the same time again, to avoid a repeat._

_They had switched nightmares._

_Nico didn’t even know that was a thing that Tartarus could do to you._

_They’d both been running too long, exhausted, starving, drained, hurt. They probably couldn’t have both stayed awake if they tried. They managed to find a place that was about as safe as Tartarus ever got and they passed out before they really knew what was happening._

_Nico was no stranger to nightmares. He never had been—even before the worst parts of his life, even before his mother died, Nico remembered bad dreams following him._

_As he’d gotten older, he’d learned to control them when he could. He was a child of the Underworld, after all—the darkness was his birthright. He learned that, sometimes, he could walk past the nightmares, like a window of television screens all playing his worst memories. If he could hold onto a purpose, he could get through them._

_It was a power like any other, though. Which meant it took energy._

_He had no chance of walking past the nightmares this time—even if he’d had the presence of mind to latch onto a path away from them, he didn’t have the strength for it._

_More than that, as he drifted into the visions, he realized he didn’t recognize it. This wasn’t the assembly line of traumatic memories that plagued his sleep. This was something new—something different._

_Nico had learned, a long time ago, to not trust anything new._

_The darkness, he knew, he understood. Stepping into a horror unknown? That was worse._

_He decided right away that this wasn’t something he wanted to see._

_He tried closing his eyes, counting down from ten, begging the very edges of his power to let him find a way out of this._

_When he opened them again, the vision just resumed, like he’d hit pause on it._

_Leo was so small. Nico thought about when he’d been ten, that little kid rambling at Percy about Mythomagic, probably annoying the hell out of him—_

_This Leo was younger than he’d been when Percy first found him._

_And he was standing surrounded by flames, unburnt and calling out for his mother, tears streaming down his face. A ghostly figure lingered in the corner of Nico’s eye, a woman that seemed to be watching._

_A soft, echoing voice swirled around them—_

Don’t cry, child—you never could have saved her.

_Leo let out a heart-wrenching scream and the scene abruptly changed, the way dreams do, and Nico found himself standing in the ashes of the building, the fire gone._

_Leo was still there, hanging his head, trembling._

_A woman materialized in front of him, a sneer on her face. (Leo’s Aunt Rosa, the dream provided for Nico) “The child is no family of mine—”_

_Her voice was loud, overpowering, and Leo winced away from it._

_“It wasn’t my fault,” he murmured to himself, not looking up. “It wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—”_

_Another vision. It was Leo, older now but not by much, pressed against the wall of a plastic tube in a playground. Panting, his hands shaking as he fidgeted with his fingers._

_“It’s okay,” Leo murmured to himself, squeezing his eyes closed. “It’s okay, it’s okay. They won’t find you. They wouldn’t know where to look. They won’t even try to look—”_

_There was a sudden noise outside and Leo flinched._

_Nico felt frozen in place. Leo’s hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and there was a small cut on his lower lip, like he’d fallen or been hit. His breathing was shaky and uneven._

_He opened his eyes, looking right at Nico without recognition. Nico stiffened for a moment until he realized that Leo couldn’t see him._

_Leo pulled a walkie-talkie out of his tattered backpack and began taking it apart, his hands getting steadier as they moved. He hunched farther forward, murmuring to himself as he worked. He seemed to be able to breathe easier when he had something to focus on._

_But at a certain point, he swore, throwing the walkie-talkie to the side. He pulled his knees up to his chest, curling._

_“Can’t do anything right,” he mumbled to himself. He squeezed his eyes closed again. “They’re right about me.”_

_“Don’t you ever shut up?” a girl snapped at him. A foster sister, Nico’s understanding provided from the vision. The house around them was crowded, but almost warm—it seemed like a nice place, a nice family, and Leo was on edge from not trusting that._

_But god, how he’d wanted to trust it. Like always, he was just hoping things would be different, that they might get better for once._

_A flash of hurt crossed Leo’s face at her sharp tone and he froze for a moment. His hands were still in midair from gesturing, getting carried away with his rambling._

_Nico watched as the hurt was brushed away before it could really register._

_Leo grinned. “Never! It’s part of my charm,” he said brightly._

_The girl rolled her eyes. “Here’s hoping you don’t last long.”_

_“Please, you know you’re lucky to have me,” Leo said with exaggerated confidence._

_She scoffed and walked off, her ponytail swinging behind her._

_Leo’s smile faded once he was alone. He closed his eyes, thought of his mother, and he began to tap his fingers lightly against his wrist._

_Morse code—_ I love you.

_Then it’s running away one last time and getting shipped off to the Wilderness School, like that’ll fix him somehow—_

_Then it’s Festus being torn to shreds—_

_Not being in control, watching his own hands fire on Camp Jupiter and New Rome, as his mind screamed at him to stop—_

_Falling from the Argo II, nothing but open air and ocean—_

_Swearing on the Styx to come back for Calypso, feeling the prophecy solidify around him, the oath to keep with his final breath, knowing what he’d just chosen—_

_The pain of dying, the pain of coming back—_

_The pain of the world he came back to not being what he wanted—_

_Finally, Nico woke up. He groaned, pulling himself to a seated position, pressed the heel of his palm to his eye. Styx, that sleep wasn’t restful at all. He had Leo’s thoughts, his memories, his anxieties, sticking in his mind like a headache._

_“Nico—” he heard Leo say, his voice shaky. So he was awake, too, then._

_Nico tried to steel himself, pushing the images of Leo’s past he’d seen out of his mind._

_When Nico looked over, Leo’s face was slack with horror. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such bare, raw emotion in Leo’s expression before—at least, not before those dreams. But Leo didn’t even seem aware that he was without a mask._

_He met Nico’s eyes, with pain and horror, some shade of deeper anger in there, too._

_It only took a moment for Nico to connect the dots. If he’d dreamt of Leo’s past…_

_Then Leo had dreamt of his._

_Nico curled in on himself._

_“I’m sorry,” he said right away._

_For which part, he wondered? Sorry for seeing too much of Leo’s life, when Leo clearly didn’t want to be known like that? Sorry that Leo had to see whatever he saw, some horrifying memories that Nico wouldn’t wish on anyone?_

_Sorry for all of it and more, he guessed._

_“You’re sorry?” Leo said back, and for a moment, Nico thought Leo might be mad at him._

_He studied Leo’s gaze warily, but Leo just seems shocked. Not angry, not incredulous, not trying to reject the apology. Just like the word “sorry” didn’t compute for him._

_“I don’t—I don’t know why that happened,” Nico said quietly. He ran an anxious hand through his hair. He felt like he should know better—like because of who he was, where he’d been, he should’ve been able to prepare them both for whatever had awaited them here. “I didn’t—”_

_“Nico—Nico, don’t,” Leo said. “I’m just—fuck, dude.”_

_“Yeah,” Nico agreed with a shaky sigh._

_“Did you…” Leo tried. He shook his head. “I mean, did we both…”_

_Nico just nodded, a little miserably._

_A long, paralyzed silence passed between them._

_“Shit, Nico,” Leo said quietly after a while. He let out a small, empty laugh. “Gotta say, I don’t know that I’ve ever been speechless before.”_

_“We don’t have to talk about it,” Nico said immediately, his tone flat._

_“I wouldn’t know what to say,” Leo admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I… wish I did, though.”_

_“We should get moving,” Nico replied. “We need to find our way out.”_

_“No argument here.”_

\---

As Nico pulled over, he studied Jason’s expression.

He was glad it was such a clear day—you could see all the way to the Golden Gate Bridge and the shimmering blue ocean beyond it. It was the kind of view that reminded you that the world was worth saving.

Jason got out of the car first and Nico followed. He walked right up to the fence blocking off the steep decline, leaning forward on it. Nico kept a safe distance, leaving space between them as he got to the fence, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He glanced at Jason and caught a glimpse of what looked like a spark flicking across his fingers.

“Wow,” Jason said, eyes on the horizon.

“Yeah,” Nico agreed.

“Is it always like this?” Jason asked.

Nico looked at the view, the vivid blues of the sky and the ocean. “More often than not, there’s fog blocking parts of it.”

“Lucky for me we came today.”

“Mm.”

Jason turned to him, eyes startlingly soft and familiar. “Thanks for bringing me.”

Nico felt his cheeks get hot and he broke eye contact quickly.

They stood like that in silence for a little while, Nico stealing glances at Jason’s star-filled eyes.

Nico saw the woman approaching, but he didn’t think anything of it. At first.

The Mist worked overtime in San Francisco, but the entire Bay Area had its own issues with it. If you weren’t on edge, if you weren’t careful, you could miss things. It had been more of a problem when Leo and Nico first moved there. They had to keep careful focus when they were out, taking care to not let the Mist get the better of them.

Since then, in the lull and the lack of monster activity, it just hadn’t been particularly relevant. Every once in a while, Nico would realize he thought he saw a cat when it was actually a stray chimera, or a god would pay a visit and it would take some rapid blinking to recognize them.

But it just hadn’t been a problem.

Which was why Nico hadn’t thought anything of the woman. He was distracted, in any case, watching Jason gaze at the horizon.

There were a handful of people who had pulled over to look at the view. Jason and Nico had kept their distance from the other groups, who were sitting up at the picnic tables.

It wasn’t until the woman started making a beeline for Nico and Jason that he realized something was off.

For one thing, she wasn’t moving like a person. She didn’t take steps.

Because she didn’t have feet.

Because she was, apparently, half snake.

“Jason—” Nico started, his voice low and urgent. He kept his eyes on the woman.

She grinned, wide, her teeth sharp and her eyes a glittering, nauseating green.

“Hm?” Jason glanced over to look at him. Nico kept his eyes on the monster.

“ _My,_ what luck,” she hissed as she approached.

Jason stiffened and turned at the sound. He shifted a little in an apparent attempt to stand between her and Nico.

Nico gritted his teeth, putting a hand on Jason’s arm to stop him and moving forward himself. _Of course,_ even in his amnesiac state, Jason’s instinct would always be to put himself in front of the danger. Typical.

“The son of Jupiter, champion to Juno,” the monster said, just barely contained glee in her tone. “You’re supposed to be dead. I’ll be happy to help with that.”

Nico moved further in front of Jason, glaring. He took a slow step backwards, pushing Jason, too. He needed to get them closer to the shadows. Nico had fallen out of the habit of carrying around his sword, which left them pretty defenseless here. Plus he wasn’t sure he wanted to test exactly what kind of effect the Mist had on Jason.

He had the foresight to avoid San Francisco, but he hadn’t had the foresight to consider that he’d be _unarmed._

“Lamia,” he greeted, his tone almost conversational if you ignored the hostility.

“I have no business with _you,”_ she hissed back, keeping her serpentine eyes on Jason.

“You have no business here at all,” he retorted.

“I most certainly do,” she said, moving as though she wanted to circle them.

Nico took a jerky step to the side, pulling Jason with him. She was trying to block them from reaching the shadows.

 _Just a few steps more,_ Nico thought. He wished he had a sword like Percy’s—one that would follow you, that you could carry around without drawing attention.

“I have been waiting to get my revenge on Zeus and Hera for—” she let out a harsh, mocking laugh, “—a _very_ long time.”

“You’re gonna have to wait a while longer,” Nico replied. _One more step—_

He grabbed Jason’s wrist, yanking him into the shadows.

Lamia lunged for them with a frustrated shriek, but they faded before her twisted claws could catch on Jason’s arm.

It had been a while since shadow travel had made Nico pass out.

But it had also been a while since he’d had to shadow travel to Texas and back, and then down the Californian coast and back, and then stayed up all night. It turned out that he’d pushed it to the limit.

So once he pulled them back out of the shadows, he immediately collapsed against Jason, losing consciousness as he heard Jason say his name.

\---

_Clawing their way out of Tartarus was a blur, in the end. Nico wasn’t sure if he’d be able to map out exactly what happened and how they did it if he wanted to._

_He didn’t want to. In the end, it didn’t matter exactly how they managed it. Leo was always an impossible person, in every sense of the word, and Nico knew his way around death. It turned out they weren’t all that bad a team, once they figured out how to understand each other._

_They ended up getting spat out in Central Park, right outside of the Door of Orpheus._

_The irony of that felt a little cruel, to be honest. A stark reminder of their failure, of the failures that came before them._

_Of how, like Orpheus, Nico wasn’t able to save the person he loved._

_“Well, that sucked,” Leo declared eloquently, panting a little._

_They were both lying back in the grass, drained and hurting and staring up at the clear, blue sky._

_“I’m out of ideas,” Nico said, barely audibly._

_Tartarus had been a last resort. There hadn’t been the time down there for the realization to really hit Nico—they’d been too busy trying to survive._

_But on the other side, looking up at the sky, a gentle breeze surrounding them, Nico felt the pierce of it._

_That was his last option. The only idea he had left. He was, truly, at a complete loss._

_“Fuck,” Leo said, a frustrated edge in his tone. “So am I.”_

_“What are we supposed to do now?” Nico murmured._

_Giving up had never been an option he’d entertained. But this was the end of the line._

_They stayed like that in silence for a while, at a loss._

_Eventually, Nico pulled himself up, sitting against a tree as he gazed vacantly at the Door of Orpheus. Leo settled in cross-legged next to him, casting a similar hopeless stare._

_“Calypso was right—” Leo said eventually, with a thin sigh. “This is gonna get me killed.”_

_Nico’s mouth twitched._

_“Will had similar things to say,” he replied._

_“But it’s for Jason,” Leo said. Something in his tone almost resigned._

_“It’s for Jason,” Nico agreed. He hated Jason, a little bit, for dying._

_How could someone just die when you hadn’t finished working out how you feel about them? When you were in a fight with them, stuck in some limbo of emotional tension?_

_Nico had gone through that before, when Bianca died while he was still busy hating her for abandoning him._

_It wasn’t fair._

_Nico might never have been able to get over Jason enough to be friends with him, but there was no way he could know that now._

_Stealing a glance at Leo, Nico read a similar kind of frustration in his expression. Something about words left unsaid, unfinished business, cliffhangers without resolution. It was familiar._

_Before all this, there was no way Nico would ever have asked, but he’d seen into Leo’s nightmares, and Leo had seen into his._

_“Did you have feelings for him?” Nico asked softly._

_He half-expected Leo to start sputtering out denials immediately, but he didn’t. He just stayed quiet, looking down, his fingers twitching in his lap._

_“No,” Leo replied, his voice uncharacteristically serious and thoughtful. “Not anymore, anyway.”_

_Nico swallowed thickly, a tight knot of anxiety in his chest. He felt like his own hands might start igniting. “Not anymore?” he echoed._

_Leo glanced up, barely meeting Nico’s eyes before flicking his gaze away again. “Yeah, does that surprise you?”_

_Nico didn’t answer. He knew from his own experience that there was no good answer to that. Like with how people always assumed his crush was on Annabeth rather than Percy. There was something terrifying about being recognized for who you were, but there was something devastating about not being seen, too. Either you felt too raw or invisible—it stung one way or the other._

_Leo sighed, frowning into his palms. A flame danced across his fingertips. “Y’know, Piper and Jason’s relationship, it made me jealous. For the longest time, I didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until I met Calypso that I realized, like—_ oh, hey, that’s what I’ve been feeling. _It wasn’t something I wanted to admit. He was my best friend—and his girlfriend was my_ other _best friend.”_

_There was a lingering silence for a moment where Nico wasn’t sure what to say._

_“I, uh—I got over it. I mean, it was just a stupid crush for me, it wasn’t—” Leo said quickly. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, running a smoking hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like how you…”_

_Nico felt himself get cold. Right. Of course Leo knew. He’d seen into Nico’s nightmares._

_“I don’t…” he started weakly. Not sure if he could stomach denying it._

_“We don’t have to talk about it. Ever, if you don’t want to,” Leo said. He paused, looking over at Nico. “But I’m here if you ever do want to. I’ll get it.”_

_“I don’t know if I can,” Nico admitted, his voice barely audible. The way he felt for Jason—it hurt in ways that couldn’t be put into words._

_Leo fiddled with a tear in his jeans, courtesy of the Furies they’d had to run from. “Y’know, I’ve never told anyone before,” he said._

_“What?” Nico replied, not sure which part of all of this he was talking about._

_“That I’m bi,” Leo clarified._

_Oh._

_Nico envied, a little bit, that Leo had managed to keep his voice steady as he said it. He’d never been able to get the words out at all._

_“When I got back to the Argo II after meeting Calypso, I didn’t want to tell anyone,” Leo said. “It felt… too important. Too big. I fell for her fast. Talking about it didn’t even seem possible.”_

_Nico snorted. “Wonder what that’s like.”_

_Leo shot him a tired smile. “Just saying. I get it.”_

_Nico pulled his jacket around himself defensively. “Sincerity is a weird look on you, Valdez.”_

_“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.” The faint attempt at humor faded before it could catch, and Leo stared back at the door, sighing. “I never got to see him again. I came back to life, and I just… never saw him again.”_

_It was strange, seeing Leo’s raw, reckless determination mirroring his own, seeing the same kind of abrupt, frustrated grief in his eyes. Nico looked down at the grass in front of him, a stinging in the corners of his eyes. He knew they couldn’t go on like this._

_“We have to stop,” he said softly, thinking about how Will had told him that, too._

_Leo let out a breath. It sounded like relief. “I know.”_

\---

When Nico came to, he was stretched out on a couch in an apartment that wasn’t his, and the light from the window was dim.

He groaned as he pulled himself up, his head aching. He rubbed his eyes, getting ahold of where he was and what had happened.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

Nico stilled. Oh, right. He remembered what happened.

He looked up. Jason was sitting on the floor right by the couch, leaning against it. Jason got up to sit next to him now that he was sitting up.

“So how’re you feeling?” Jason asked.

Nico stared.

“ _That’s_ your first question?” he replied incredulously.

“I mean, I do have other questions,” Jason said. “But you sort of, like, collapsed. You’ve been fully passed out for hours. I wasn’t sure if I should take you to the hospital.”

That would’ve gone well.

“For the best that you didn’t,” Nico replied. 

“I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that it seemed to be teleportation-related. Or why your hands faded a few times.”

“That—” Nico sighed, almost wanting to laugh. “Yeah, that’s hard to explain.”

“So. How are you feeling?” Jason repeated.

“Uh—I’m okay,” Nico said. Mostly, he felt a little embarrassed, and a little afraid of the conversation he knew he was going to have to have. “It’s—well, this isn’t… exactly unusual for me. I’m used to it.”

“Okay…” Jason said, dragging the word out a little.

Nico twisted his ring. “Like I said. Hard to explain.”

“I’ve just never had a date end like that,” Jason said, with a slight smile.

Nico froze. Really, he was pretty sure the whole world froze. Jason was speaking in a too-casual tone—Nico recognized it. Jason was forcing confidence, hiding his uncertainty. He’d always been good at that, but Nico had learned to see through it.

A complicated, turbulent series of emotions sank and swirled in Nico’s chest.

An immediate tingling nervousness, without meaning to, a small jittery excitement. Because, well…

A _date?_ With Jason. A date. Jason thought it was a date. Nico didn't know where to start with that.

But before he _could_ start with it—a cold, bitter shuttering. Souring any initial impulse of butterflies. Because, no, this wasn’t right. It was _all_ wrong. Jason was straight. Jason never would’ve liked Nico like that. Nico never had a chance.

He thought, maybe, this was the Mist’s way of trying to make him leave well enough alone.

_See, isn’t it better? See, don’t you want to just live in the fantasy? He can be happy, you can be happy, who cares if it’s real?_

If Nico had any lingering doubt about telling Jason the truth about his missing memories, they were all gone now.

“Jason, there are some things I need to tell you,” Nico said. He didn’t dare look at Jason.

“I gathered that much, actually.”

“You don’t remember me, but… It’s more than that.” Nico took a breath. “There’s a lot you don’t remember.”

Jason let out a small, nervous laugh. “Okay, sure. Whatever you say.” His tone was apprehensive, uneasy. Like he believed Nico but was trying not to.

Nico furrowed his brow. “Do me a favor. Call your sister.”

Jason blinked. “What?”

“Humor me.”

“Um. Alright.” Jason pulled out his phone. Then he froze, his eyes getting a distant, glassy look in them. “Wait, I—I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” Jason cut off.

“You said her name was Tessa?”

Jason paused, frowning. “Did I?”

“You said she liked to tell the story of how you got the scar on your lip.”

“Yeah, she…” Jason’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. He took a long, shaky breath.

When he opened his eyes to look at Nico again, there was a kind of underlying, faded sadness. With a twinge, Nico realized they’d gotten more familiar.

“Your sister’s name is Thalia,” Nico said, lowering his voice to make it gentle. “And you got the scar on your lip from a stapler.”

Jason didn’t answer for a long, charged moment.

“How do we know each other?” he asked seriously.

Nico’s throat felt tight. He really couldn’t do this alone.

“Will you just… come back to my place with me?”

\---

_Some relationships could never recover._

_Nico hadn’t bothered to try to repair anything with Will. He’d apologized for abandoning him, Will had accepted, that was enough. Will had said he’d like to remain friends, but Nico wasn’t sure there was a point._

_Leo reached out to Calypso, but she wasn’t interested. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say._

_Leo sighed after another terse, cut-off Iris Message and fell on the couch next to Nico._

_After Tartarus, neither of them wanted to live alone, so they found a place together. It hadn’t taken much discussion._

_“Well, that’s it, I guess,” Leo said, staring up at the ceiling. “No one can say I didn’t try.”_

_“Sorry,” Nico replied half-heartedly._

_“It was nice while it lasted,” Leo sighed. He shot Nico a smirk. “Let’s be real. No one is surprised I screwed it up.”_

_Nico shrugged. “She should’ve known you better than that.”_

_“Maybe.” Leo didn’t seem all that sad, at least. He seemed drained. “Organic lifeforms,” he said._

_“The living,” Nico agreed._

\---

It wasn’t until they’d gotten to the door that Nico’s mind really caught up with him, and he realized what was happening, what he was doing.

He turned to Jason abruptly, and Jason looked at him questioningly.

Nico paused. “Um. Just. Stay there, for a minute.”

He opened the door slowly, slipping in.

Leo was home, on their couch, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, dude,” he said, his tone slightly apprehensive as he took in Nico’s expression.

“Leo, I need to tell you something,” Nico said quickly.

Leo, to his credit, didn’t smile or joke. “Okay. This isn’t about my car, is it?”

“Uh—no. Your car is—well, your car is actually parked in Tilden right now, but—”

“Wait, what? You _abandoned_ Jasmine?”

“Listen, that’s not—I just. Well—actually, I need to _show_ you,” Nico amended. He took a breath and opened the door more, gesturing for Jason to come in.

Leo’s face went slack—his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

Jason glanced at Nico, looking a little unsure.

“How—” Leo started.

“He doesn’t remember anything,” Nico said quickly.

“What, _again?”_ Leo said.

“Again?” Jason said, his tone alarmed. He looked at Nico, his brow furrowed.

“Right, um…” Nico didn’t know where to start.

“Bro.” Leo finally got to his feet, looking a little shaky. He made an effort to cover up with a wide grin. “You _gotta_ keep better track of your memories. At a certain point, it’s just careless.”

“Nico?” Jason prompted.

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t, uh. Gotten around to covering that part.”

“Ah—sorry, don’t mind me, just Nico’s crazy roommate. Mmkay, well, Jason, will you excuse us for _just_ a moment?” Leo said. His tone was lively, just a little too cheerful. The way he got when he was just barely stopping himself from freaking out. “Make yourself at home. We’ve got cereal, drinks, probably food that isn’t cereal—just… _don’t_ go anywhere. Stay, like, _right_ there.”

“Um. Okay.” Jason looked around the place, tentatively stepping further into the apartment. Nico wondered, dimly, what he was noticing.

“Nico, _a word,”_ Leo said. He grabbed Nico’s wrist and dragged him to his room.

Leo’s room was always a wreck—full of half-working machines, stray parts everywhere, mattress on the ground. It was hard to know where to step.

Leo half-slammed the door behind them.

“Nico, _what_ the hell?” Leo hissed, shooting an alarmed look at the door, like he could see Jason through it.

“I don’t know. I _don’t_ know.” He felt a relieved kind of hysterical at Leo’s reaction.

“Is it—I mean, have you—I mean, are you _sure—_ ” Leo tried to get out, his hands pulling at his hair and fidgeting with whatever stray wires were closest. “Okay, just—level with me, di Angelo. Are we in a _Zombieland_ type scenario? Is he about to do some crazy _Night of the Living Dead_ shit? Or—DC comics type alternate timeline rift? Earth-2 Jason. Jason clone. Jason’s evil twin? Maybe a _Twilight Zone_ brand doppelganger? Loss of memory, so—okay, y’know how in _Teen Titans,_ when Terra comes back—”

“That one,” Nico interjected. He was glad, a little bit, that Leo and Will had both dragged him into watching so many movies and TV shows. “I think. Maybe. He has fake memories. Regular mortal ones. Sort of… just off from what’s real.”

“So—it’s him? Are we sure it’s him?” Leo almost looked afraid. He backed away from the door.

“I’ve gotten confirmation of that,” Nico replied. “He—okay, so I don’t know the full story, but… He _did_ die. Technically. But he prayed to a goddess, and she answered. I don’t know what happened after that.”

“Well, shit.” Leo twisted at the copper wiring in his hand. “I _knew_ it. Rule number one of hero stories—if there’s no body, they’re not dead.”

“So what do we do now?” Nico asked.

Leo looked at him, wide-eyed. “You’re asking _me?_ Dude, I have no idea.”

“You were there when he has amnesia the first time!”

“Yeah, and I filled him in on _fake_ memories. Now he’s the one with the fake memories. What am I supposed—I mean…”

Nico furrowed his brow. “Right, you and Piper had those memories of him… What… happened with that? Did you ever get your real memories back?”

Leo blinked. Frowned. Stared at the door again. “Honestly? I never tried to.”

“Seriously?”

He shrugged one shoulder. His hands went still, which was always eerie.

“There were bigger problems—it wasn’t like, a priority. It never really occurred to me to… So yeah, I don’t actually _know_ what the semester at that school was like for me and Piper. We were—we _must’ve_ been friends, I just…” Leo’s voice was softer. He started to sound distant. “I think… Piper and I never really got around to admitting that those memories weren’t real in the first place.”

It seemed to Nico like it was only just hitting Leo right that moment.

Leo groaned into his hands. Then he took a deep breath, like he was trying to settle himself.

“ _Gods._ Organic lifeforms,” Leo muttered.

“The living,” Nico agreed.

Leo gestured widely towards the door. “ _Yeah,_ the living!”

“So what _now?”_ Nico asked. “We have to—we have to _explain_ something to him.”

“What, you want me to prepare a PowerPoint presentation?” Leo took a breath. “We have to go back out there. Off chance that he _is_ a zombie, we probably don’t want him loose in our apartment.”

“Yeah. We should—”

Neither of them moved for a long moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated! You can also find me on tumblr @official-mermaid, if you like


	5. with something missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you happy with your life?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing relatively okay with the whole post-schedule-of-once-a-week. Not perfectly but these chapters are longer than my usual lol. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting!

_It was an unremarkable day. Jason had gone to get lunch alone, content enough with the fact that he didn’t have to deal with walking in the rain. The world was quiet, he was settling into this new place, and everything was…_

_Easy. It always seemed so easy. A gentle current pulling him along, he barely had to think about it._

_It would’ve been an unremarkable week, if he hadn’t gotten stopped in the street by Nico di Angelo._

_Jason had paused to check something on his phone, not quite eager to get back to work. He liked his job well enough, but it could be draining, in a disconnected sort of way. Like everything else in his life, sometimes it felt distant, like it was happening to someone else. It was all very neat and tidy and simple. He didn’t feel like a part of it._

_That day had been like that. So he was dragging his feet a little returning to work when he heard it._

_A soft “Grace?” right behind him._

_He paused, unsure if he’d heard it right. He turned._

_A thin guy, a few inches shorter than Jason, with olive skin and silky black hair, wearing a dark denim jacket. His hand was up a little like he’d been planning to tap Jason’s shoulder and changed his mind, the action suspended in the air between them._

_There was something in the way he was looking at Jason. Wide, deep brown eyes, staring with intensity—he looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, like Jason could be some kind of mirage that would fade away if he blinked._

_Inexplicably, Jason felt a tugging in his chest, an invisible thread pulling him towards this stranger. Like he knew the guy from somewhere. More than that, like it almost pained him to see him again, that soft kind of ache when you see someone that you’ve been missing. Later, Jason wouldn’t be able to make sense of it, but in that moment, he felt so relieved that it hurt. There was a piercing twist in his heart—_

Oh, there you are—finally, I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve been looking for you.

_And it was all in stark, vivid color. It felt like it was actually happening to him, like he was finally tied to the physical space of the moment. He could feel electricity waking up in his fingertips._

_Whether Jason could put it into words or not, the clock had started ticking again._

_“Sorry?” he replied, uncertainly._

_“It’s really you,” the guy had breathed out._

_“Do I know you?” Considering the reaction Jason was having, he must. Right?_

_The guy blinked, like the question had broken a trance._

_“I guess not,” he replied._

If I don’t, then I need to, _was Jason’s only thought._

_“I usually go by Jason,” he said, offering a hand._

\---

Jason had blinked against the light of the sun that morning, pushing himself up in his bed.

It was weird—he never remembered his dreams, but now he was getting some flashes of them.

Nothing that made sense. Wolves circling, a silvery glowing woman looking down at him, a peacock following him, a teenage boy with fire in the palm of his hand. The feeling that he was flying, the feeling that he was falling.

Despite being touched by tragedy, Jason’s life had been relatively uneventful. His mother’s death, his father’s absence, they felt distant. He didn’t feel like he’d grieved. The last time he’d felt truly afraid was the day he nearly drowned, and he barely remembered it.

Since then, his life had felt charmed.

He’d been alone for most of it, but he wasn’t sure he’d admit to being lonely. He was content enough. Everything seemed to fall into place for him, almost magically.

There was nothing he could concretely complain about, so he didn’t.

He ignored the lingering feeling that something was missing whenever it resurfaced. It didn’t feel like something he should touch, like it might shock him with electricity if he tried. It felt like he’d been warned, once, to let things be, and it was a voice that echoed whenever he got too close to anything that seemed like it could hurt.

He couldn’t complain. So he didn’t.

He liked his life.

The strange, lingering feeling of his dreams washed away in the soft light from the window.

He thought he might like to buy coffee to surprise Nico with when he arrived.

This—

Hadn’t gone the way Jason had anticipated.

The strange, oily quality of the darkness surrounded him. He felt like he was falling—the only thing keeping him grounded was Nico’s hand clutching at his arm.

He wouldn’t be able to say for sure how long they’d been in the dark—all he knew was one moment, they were looking at the sparkling view of the Bay, approached by a strange unreal creature, then everything went black, and then they were in his living room.

He didn’t have time to worry or question it before Nico collapsed into him.

“Nico?” he said, stumbling as he kept them both from falling. “Nico, are you okay?”

Nico was passed out cold. Jason had to maneuver him carefully. He wasn’t that big, but he was dead weight—it was a bit of a struggle.

Jason was winded when he managed to get Nico stretched out on the couch on his back.

It was a little strange to see him like this—asleep, his lips slightly parted, his arm hanging down. Nothing guarded. Jason had felt like they’d known each other, but he didn’t _remember_ Nico, not concretely. He was still a stranger, real as he felt compared to the rest of the world.

“Nico?” Jason called out tentatively. He almost reached out to touch Nico’s shoulder but he stopped short.

Nico’s breathing was soft and steady. His expression was so still, his soft hair falling into his face, tangling in his eyelashes. Jason had the urge to stroke it back from his forehead, in some tender too-familiar gesture. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

He wasn’t sure what was going on with him, exactly. He felt like he _should_ be freaking out about—

Whatever just happened. Monsters and teleportation. The snake-lady-thing that had looked at him like he was a meal. The fact that they were just _in his apartment_ now, after melting into some cold shadows. It seemed like all that was worth freaking out over. 

Instead, though, he felt pretty serene about that whole thing—unconcerned, almost. It was like muscle memory—like the way Jason’s first impulse when he’d seen the woman wasn’t to freeze or run away, but to get in front of Nico, like he could somehow protect him. He knew that wasn’t _right,_ exactly, but it just didn’t strike him as something to lose his mind about. It was familiar, in a way Jason couldn’t place.

Meanwhile, Nico asleep on his couch?

That, it seemed, was worth some heart palpitations.

He took a breath, telling himself to _cool it._

He settled onto the floor by the couch.

“It seems like it would’ve been impossible to forget you,” Jason murmured, gazing at Nico’s peaceful face. “I _feel_ like I remember. I just can’t…”

It was like grasping at smoke in the air—he couldn’t wrap his fingers around it.

He sighed, leaning back. He figured he was just going to have to wait until Nico woke up again.

\---

_What Jason remembered most was the water._

_It was cold enough to feel sharp against his skin. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there, how he’d been pulled so deep. He had a sharp knife of certainty in his chest that he was going to die. There had hardly been any doubt to begin with, he remembered—_

_He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he’d been so sure he’d never breathe again. But he knew he wasn’t surprised that he was about to die._

_In his memory of it, he was sure he was in the process of regretting—_

_Something. There was something he’d needed to do, something he’d lost the chance to—_

_But it didn’t matter anymore, not really. Regrets filled his lungs like the saltwater and it was all pointless._

_He remembered—_

_He remembered thinking—_

This? This is how it happens?

After everything—

_Almost like he was disappointed more than afraid. He was sinking, he was alone, he was so cold._

_He remembered thinking—_

I’m sorry.

_Though he wouldn’t have been able to explain, afterwards, what he’d been apologizing for._

_By the time the thought had drifted out in front of him, he felt something that actually surprised him. He felt a warm hand pulling him to the surface. The saltwater suddenly became softer around him, like it had been soothed and settled and it had changed its mind about dragging him to the depths._

_He lost consciousness before he broke through the surface._

_The memory, in a lot of ways, ended there._

_But if it didn’t end there, he remembered something like a dream after that._

_He had expected to die. He hadn’t expected to wake up with the sun on his face._

_Looking back on it, he remembered being alarmed—afraid, maybe, that because he’d survived, something bad had happened. He couldn’t remember why._

_What he did remember was the sun, the birds, the sand underneath him. Soft voices, speaking—_

_“So young for a heart so heavy—” A woman’s voice, gentle, kind._

_“He’ll need—”_

_Jason never heard how that sentence ended. Maybe he’d never know what he needed._

_The next thing he knew, he was upright. Dry, with clean clothes and clear eyes._

_He was sitting on a bench overlooking the shore he assumed he’d washed up on, though the memory of that was already hard to reach._

_“How—” Jason started faintly. He looked around. The world felt normal, but there was something strange. Like he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. “How did I get here?”_

_He wasn’t asking anyone in particular, but he got an answer anyway._

_A woman was sitting next to him. He hadn’t noticed. She smiled at him, her long hair pulled back, her eyes kind and warm. Her presence felt soothing, like she quieted the world. He felt like he knew her—already, his mind vaguely began sorting through filling in the blanks. An aunt, maybe…_

_“That’s not for you to worry about,” she said, her voice like honey._

_Jason felt himself listening to her. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about it. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe…_

_“It’s okay,” she told him._

_And maybe it was. Maybe it was okay._

_Jason felt like it could be true._

_“Let go,” she said. “The pain won’t follow you.”_

_Like a dream, it faded. Jason didn’t remember leaving that shore._

\---

Jason could hear hissed whispering from the other room, like Nico and his roommate were arguing.

He made an effort not to eavesdrop and instead, wandered carefully around the living room. The apartment very clearly had two separate personalities. Jason could see the parts that looked like Nico—what he knew of him, anyway.

The tapestry on the wall with artwork of constellations on it. The bookcase that seemed half college textbooks, half nonfiction history books from the last century or so. There was a navy blue couch and a chair facing the TV in the corner.

He’d been trying to think of where he knew Nico from, but every time he tried to think too hard about his past, it was like trying to look through fog.

He supposed he’d thought he just hadn’t been much for reminiscing, but that didn’t feel quite right. Maybe it was just that his past wasn’t that interesting. It wasn’t worth dwelling on so he… didn’t. It could be that simple. Right?

But apparently, according to Nico, there was more missing than Jason knew.

The door down the hall swung open and Nico’s roommate marched out, Nico following close behind. Nico looked uneasy—his hands shoved in his pockets, not quite making eye contact. Meanwhile, his roommate looked borderline frantic, his over-the-top grin seeming like it might have cracks fracturing under the surface.

The guy was about the same height as Nico, though he seemed to take up a lot more space. He walked up to Jason and stuck out a hand. “Well, great to meet you for the second—third?—no, I guess second time. Well— _I’m_ meeting you for the third time. You’re meeting me for the second.”

“Uh…” Jason didn’t know what to make of him. He hesitantly shook the guy’s hand. His head had been spinning since Nico dragged him through the shadows, and it was showing no signs of steadying.

“I’m Percy Jackson—” the guy started to introduce.

“ _Leo,”_ Nico chided from behind him, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing.

Percy/Leo frowned and shot a faux glare back at Nico. “Alright, _fine,_ I guess we’re not having any fun today.” He turned back to Jason. “I’m Frank—”

“Leo!” Nico hissed again.

“—Leo Valdez. I’m Leo Valdez.” He spread his arms out when he turned to Nico. “Happy now?”

“Take this seriously,” Nico muttered with a sharp glare.

“Nope. I will not do that.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Leo sighed and offered Jason a _what are you going to do_ type shrug. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, putting on the air of a disappointed father. “Now. Jason whatever-your-middle-name-is Grace. Will you _please_ explain yourself?”

Jason blinked. Glanced at Nico. Looked back at Leo. “Sorry?”

“I demand an explanation. What happened _this_ time?”

“Uh—I think _I’d_ like an explanation first?” Jason said uncertainly.

“At _least_ the first time, you had the excuse of never having technically met me before, but _dude._ How could you actually _forget_ me? Rude. Unacceptable.” Leo stepped back and gestured theatrically at himself. “I am _unforgettable.”_

“Nico?” Jason prompted, meeting his serious, troubled gaze. Nico’s eyes flickered away quickly.

“I _really_ don’t know where to start,” Nico muttered. He fiddled with the skull ring on his finger, twisting it, and furrowed his brow.

“How about this—” Leo put up a hand. “So. Jason. The Greek and Roman gods. Thoughts?”

“Um—I’m not great at mythology?”

“Hm. Suspicious.”

“What?”

Nico stepped forward. “Do you believe in them?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t _not_ believe in them,” Jason replied.

If he was being honest, he hadn’t thought about it much. What he did or didn’t believe in the greater scheme of things wasn’t relevant very often. If pressed, Jason might say he could believe in most things. He was open to the possibilities, at least. He’d seen some weird shit over the years, he wasn’t about to brush anything off right away.

It had never really occurred to him to _not_ believe in something, he supposed.

Nico and Leo exchanged a glance, where they seemed to communicate more than Jason could register.

“It’s something,” Leo said, his voice dropping to a serious tone. It was startling, after the weird energy he came in with.

Nico gave a quick nod and turned back to Jason. “That woman in Tilden today—what did you see?”

 _Woman_ was one thing to call her.

“The crazy half-snake thing?” Jason asked. Hence his ability to believe in a wide variety of things.

“Okay, so the Mist isn’t messing with him _there_ ,” Leo said. He looked Jason up and down like he was a machine.

“Wait, so you’re saying she was from Greek mythology?” Jason asked Nico.

“Lamia. Daughter of Hecate, turned into a monster by Hera and forced to devour her own children,” Nico explained.

Leo looked at Nico. “Dude. Fucked up.”

Nico shrugged. “Probably why she was going after Jason.”

“Uh—” Jason started, just a _tiny bit_ alarmed by whatever _that_ meant.

“Should we take him to New Rome?” Leo asked. “If Lamia could find him—”

“I don’t think Lamia _could_ find him,” Nico replied seriously. “I think she found me. _Something_ has been keeping Jason safe from monsters all this time.”

“I mean. Should we take him to New Rome _anyway?_ Bring everyone else in on this? I’m not exactly an expert in memory-retrieval.”

“Hold on a second—” Nico said holding up a hand to Leo. He turned to Jason, eyes solemn. “So we’re telling you that you’ve lost your memories. Do you believe us?”

Jason nodded without really thinking about it. It was easy enough to trust Nico and Leo—and Jason never picked at the things that didn’t make sense in his life, but they lingered in his mind. He _had_ always felt like something was missing.

As outlandish as the idea that Jason had a whole life he’d forgotten was, it made sense to him. It made things click into place in a way nothing else did. It _sounded_ right, like the explanation he’d been holding his breath for.

His life had felt so distant. And Nico felt real.

Nico looked grim. “Are you happy with your life?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“Um—yeah,” Jason said slowly. He didn’t think about it much, but it’s not like he could complain.

“You’ve been safe?” Nico continued.

Jason nodded.

Nico kept his gaze steadily on Jason. His eyes were hypnotically beautiful—Jason felt pinned to the spot.

“Do you _want_ to remember?” Nico asked.

“Yes,” Jason replied automatically.

“Are you _sure?”_ Nico insisted.

“Dude, of course he—” Leo started.

“You’re safe and happy where you are now,” Nico said, cutting Leo off. He looked reluctant, the crease between his brows deepening. “If you come with us, I can’t guarantee your safety. I _really_ can’t guarantee your happiness. And as far as your memories go—whatever you remember now will be kinder. I need you to think about this. Seriously. Do you want to remember?”

“Nico—” Leo said, frowning at him. He looked a little confused, taken aback.

Nico didn’t look at Leo. He kept his eyes on Jason.

“I—” Jason started, suddenly unsure. With the way Nico was looking at him, he didn’t know if he could be sure about _anything._

“What you remember now might be _nicer,_ but it’s fake,” Leo said, a sharp edge in his tone. “Do you want the _truth?”_

Nico finally turned to Leo with a glare and Jason felt like he could breathe again at the broken eye contact.

“Leo,” Nico said, warning in his tone. The room seemed to darken, like a cloud was passing over the sun.

Leo glared right back, unfazed. “Hey, if you’re gonna try to talk him out of it—”

“I’m _not—”_

“You _are._ I don’t know _why,_ but—”

“We can’t give him the wrong idea—”

“The _wrong_ idea? You’re trying to make it sound like there was _nothing_ good,” Leo snapped.

Nico rubbed a frustrated hand down his face. “Like that’s far off,” he muttered.

_“Dude—”_

“I want to,” Jason interjected. “I want to remember.”

He did. His life had felt like a dream—all soft edges, sure, but it was like drifting. He’d come to California because he wanted something real.

“Of course he does!” Leo said, gesturing vaguely at Jason. “He’s _Jason._ You really think he’d back out because things might be _hard?_ Because they’re not perfect?”

Nico’s face had darkened. The turmoil in his eyes was hard to read. In a way, it just made Jason want to know more. Anything that made someone look at him with that kind of intensity was worth knowing.

“I guess we should go to New Rome, then,” Nico said reluctantly.

“Great, let’s go,” Leo said. “Take us to pick up my car first.”

Nico glanced at Leo and brought a hand up to rub his temple, like his head hurt. “Can we just—it’s getting late. Let’s go tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding?” Leo replied.

“The others might be getting to sleep, or—”

“They’d wanna wake up for _this.”_

Nico sighed. “Shadowtravel already made me pass out earlier today, just… _Please._ First thing tomorrow.”

Leo and Nico appeared to have a staring contest before Leo finally threw his arms up.

“Fine! Fine, okay, but I am _waking_ you up if I get impatient.”

“Fine.”

“ _Fine.”_

Jason cleared his throat. “Should I go home, then—” he said, inching towards the door.

“ _No,”_ Leo said sharply, turning to him. “Just, uh—no. You can take the couch. Or the bathtub. Or Nico’s bed. I don’t care. Just _stay.”_

His fervent tone was a little alarming. Jason wasn’t going to argue.

“Uh—sure. Sure, okay. I can, um—” He glanced at Nico, who was avoiding eye contact. “I can take the couch.”

“Great. Cool. Awesome.” Leo took a breath. “If you’re not here when I wake up, I’ll find you again, and handcuff our wrists together and swallow the key. Don’t test me.”

Jason blinked, an amused smile growing. Something about Leo felt familiar. Which, he supposed, made sense, since he’d never introduced himself but the guy knew his name.

“Alright, duly noted,” he replied, just a hint of laughter in his tone. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Leo grinned. “Dude. It’s _so_ good to see you,” he said warmly. “I’m gonna hug you now.”

“Oh—okay.”

Leo rushed over and threw his arms tightly around Jason. Jason hesitantly hugged back.

When Leo pulled away, he kept a hand on Jason’s shoulder for a moment.

“ _Dude,”_ he said emphatically.

“It’s, uh—it’s good to see you too, I think,” Jason offered.

Leo let out a short laugh. His eyes were shiny, like he might cry. “Please, it’s _great_ to see me.”

\---

_There’s this thing that happens in dreams—_

_If you try to think about it, you look around and you can’t remember how you got there._

_Jason’s life was like that. The way he remembered it, anyway._

_He lost track of places, of people. He didn’t get a lot of questions about where he came from, how he got there, so he didn’t think about it. Living in Denver, he had just sort of accepted things at face value._

_He had a life there. He went to school—he had a place to live. He had a girlfriend, for a while._

_It was his life—it had always been his life, it had always been like this. He didn’t know anything else._

Where are you from? _someone had asked him once in class, offhand._

California, _he’d replied automatically. It had taken him a moment to catch up with that answer—it sounded right, but he hadn’t meant to say it, and he didn’t know where it had come from._

_The conversation moved on, and Jason never thought much of it. He was from California—that was something he knew, though it didn’t cross his mind much. He remembered the ocean. He remembered…_

_Another time, someone had asked him about his parents._

They’re gone, _he’d said, unconcerned, disconnected. The person had frozen, awkwardly offering apologies, and Jason had shrugged it off, with a smile._

_When Nico had asked him about his scar, about his sister, he’d had a similar moment, though it felt a little farther away._

Tessa, _he’d said, but the name sounded unfamiliar even as he said it._

_But like with many things before, a soft voice beckoned him away from the thread, telling him to leave it be. And so he followed._

_And he didn’t think about it._

\---

After a little while, Leo went to go pick up _Jasmine_ from up in Tilden, shooting a glare at Nico as he left. Jason wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to get up there, but he didn’t question it.

Nico had fallen pretty quiet, sinking towards the shadows and fidgeting with his hands. He looked troubled.

Jason found himself, with a pang in his chest, worrying about him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a few steps towards Nico. “We never did get lunch,” he said.

“Hm?” Nico glanced up, barely meeting his eyes before looking away again.

“I just mean I haven’t eaten,” Jason said. He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “And neither have you.”

Nico grimaced a little, looking up towards the ceiling. “I _swear,_ even when you don’t _remember—”_ he muttered to himself.

“Sorry?”

Nico sighed. “Yes. Fine. Food. Kitchen.”

He gestured vaguely and led Jason into the other room.

The kitchen was tidier than the living room, though there was a strange kind of clutter on the counters. Small appliances that Jason didn’t recognize, that he couldn’t begin to guess what they did.

Nico hesitated by the fridge. “Uh—Leo does most of the cooking, I don’t really…”

“I think cereal was mentioned?” Jason said.

“That I can do.”

As Nico got two bowls out of the cupboard and pulled down the cereal, Jason watched him. His movements were brisk, a little stilted. He seemed like he was deliberately avoiding even turning Jason’s way.

“Can I ask you something?” Jason said.

Nico faltered, stilling for a split second before brushing it off. He continued getting the cereal, his movements as stiff as before. “Sure,” he said.

“Will you answer?”

He sighed. He handed Jason one of the bowls of cereal, sitting down next to him at the counter.

“I might,” Nico replied.

They ate for a few minutes in silence. Jason wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d gotten some glimpses from what Nico and Leo had said, but he couldn’t piece it together.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Jason settled on as his first question.

“I didn’t know what you knew. I wasn’t sure—” Nico tapped his fingers lightly against the counter. He seemed to notice what he was doing, flexing his hand quickly before dropping it in his lap. “I wasn’t sure that you were _you.”_

“When were you _going_ to say something?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I was going to _try_ to today, but…” Nico’s mouth twisted up in a bitter smile. “It’s not exactly something you can just tell someone.”

“I guess.”

“Can I ask _you_ something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why aren’t you freaking out?”

It was a fair question. Jason had wondered the same thing.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I guess… This just makes more sense to me than anything has in a while.”

Nico scoffed, shaking his head.

Jason shot him a slight smile. “What, is that weird?”

“For you? Not really.”

The way Nico’s voice sounded—

Familiar, warm. They must’ve really known each other. That felt right. That felt real.

“So how _do_ we know each other?” Jason asked. “Who am I to you?”

Nico furrowed his brow, letting out a thin sigh. “We know each other because we’re both demigods.”

“Demigods,” Jason echoed.

Nico nodded.

Jason half-thought he might be kidding, but the words _sounded_ real.

It was strange, to hear something so crazy and have it make sense. Jason felt like _he_ might be crazy.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Demigods?”

“Your dad is Jupiter,” Nico said.

Jupiter. Jason felt foggy. He couldn’t really place who the planet was named for.

“Jupiter?” Jason repeated uncertainly.

Nico glanced at him, some reluctance in it. “Yeah. Roman version of Zeus? King of the gods? God of the sky, of thunder?”

“Oh.”

Jason was getting a little dizzy—like the fog was disorienting him. He looked at his hands, trying to think and having a hard time latching onto anything. Since meeting Nico, he’d started to feel more real, more connected—this was distancing him again.

“We don’t have to—” Nico started. “It’s a lot to take in, we can just…”

“No, it’s fine, I’m okay.” He was nauseous, actually, but it was fine. He’d spent so long with parts of his life feeling like smoke between his fingers—he didn’t want that anymore.

“Really, we don’t have to,” Nico reiterated.

“I can handle it.”

Nico sighed. “Of course you can.”

His words sounded like they tasted bitter to him. A shade of exasperation in it.

Jason studied Nico’s face. Nico stared straight ahead, tension in his expression, stiffening, seeming aware of Jason’s gaze.

“I get the impression you don’t _want_ me to remember,” Jason said carefully.

Nico didn’t say anything.

He wasn’t sure exactly what baggage Nico and he had in that life—it suddenly felt like it must’ve been something bad. Jason’s stomach twisted, wondering if the version of him Nico knew had hurt him somehow. Demigods must have powers, so—

Maybe it wasn’t the issue of what Jason had gone through, but what he was capable of.

Jason took a slightly nervous breath as Nico kept quiet. “Did I… do something to you?” he asked.

Nico finally turned to him with a sigh. He didn’t look surprised by the question; he just looked tired.

“No, Jason,” Nico said with some thin patience. “You didn’t _do_ anything. You were one of the best people I ever knew.”

Jason was having a hard time processing… well, any of this.

It had felt sort of manageable, sort of clear, right up until Jupiter.

“Then why—” he started to ask.

“It’s not that _simple,”_ Nico said sharply. “You were _safe._ And now, just because I saw you on the street one day, you’re _not_ anymore.”

“Do you… wish you hadn’t found me?” Jason asked slowly.

Nico shot him a glare. “It’s not _that_ simple either,” he muttered.

Jason watched the flickering emotion in his eyes, wondering. “What were we?”

Nico looked away, his expression steeling. “We were friends,” he said flatly.

That didn’t sound quite right to Jason. It felt like it must’ve been something more. The soft beat of his heart _insisted_ that they were something more than that.

“Friends,” Jason repeated.

Nico shrugged one shoulder. “Less so, there at the end, I guess,” he said faintly.

“Less?” Jason just flat out didn’t believe that.

“We hadn’t seen each other much,” Nico said. “Before…”

He trailed off.

Jason watched him carefully, but his expression didn’t change.

“What happened?” Jason asked.

Nico sighed, like he’d been dreading the question. “You died.”

Jason waited for the news to hit him. But it felt less like a blow and more like a gentle wave. He wasn’t knocked over by the words.

If anything, it just made sense to him.

“Oh,” he replied. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“It… makes sense. It feels real.”

Nico make a sound like strangled laughter. “Di immortales, Jason, that’s depressing.” The words came out harshly.

Maybe it was. But at least it was _real_.

“When I drowned, right?”

Nico hesitated. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s the memory of it.”

“So what really happened?”

There was a frozen silence, and Nico angled himself away from Jason.

“I wasn’t there. Someone else will have to cover that one for you.”

They finished up their cereal in a somewhat strained silence. Nico cleared their bowls, still seeming like he was trying to avoid looking directly at Jason for too long. Jason had more questions swirling around in his mind, but he couldn’t quite catch onto them.

They moved back to the living room, to the navy blue couch.

“Nico—” Jason started.

“You should get some rest,” Nico said. “We both should.”

Wordlessly, he went and grabbed a blanket, handing it to Jason. Then he turned away and headed to a room down the hall, closing the door behind him with a decisive _click._ Leaving Jason gazing after him, still wondering.

\---

_Dreams didn’t always make sense, but this was strange right away._

_Jason found himself on a palace balcony, leaning over the edge. Below, he could see a bronze ship floating at the docks. He felt a sharp twinge of recognition._

_He thought, distantly, that he was waiting for something._

_He noticed Nico beside him—a younger, teenage Nico, dressed in black. Shorter, with gaunt sharp angles in his face. His eyes were sunken like he hadn’t slept and his skin looked tinged in gray, like he had echoes of shadows sticking to him._

_Jason drifted further away and he realized he could see himself, too—younger, with faded bruises, some kind of heaviness in his eyes as he turned to look at Nico._

_“Look, Nico,” he heard himself say, voice echoing like he was underwater. “I’m here if you want to talk about, you know, what happened in Croatia. I get how difficult—”_

_“You don’t get anything,” Nico replied, an emptiness in his voice._

_The younger Jason furrowed his brow, looking sad, regretful._

_“Nobody’s going to judge you.”_

_Nico scowled, frustrated anger in his gaze. “Really? That would be a first. I’m the son of Hades, Jason. I might as well be covered in blood or sewage, the way people treat me. I don’t belong anywhere. I’m not even from this century. But even that’s not enough to set me apart. I’ve got to be—to be—”_

_Jason’s hand twitched at his side like wanted to reach out, but he didn’t. He flexed his palm, pressing it closer to his side. “‘Dude, it’s not like you’ve got a choice. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s just who you are.”_

_“Just who I am…” Nico’s mouth twisted into a humorless smile, like he wanted to laugh with his own simmering, hopeless rage. The ground trembled beneath them. “Easy for you to say. You’re everybody’s golden boy, the son of Jupiter. The only person who ever accepted me was Bianca, and she died! I didn’t choose any of this. My father, my feelings…”_

_The pain in his voice felt tangible, and the vision got cloudier. Jason tried to reach closer to it, but it felt like he was reaching a barrier. He felt a strange certainty—this was a memory. He didn’t know how he knew it, he just did._

_The young him that was standing there raised his hands. “Yeah, okay. But, Nico, you do choose how to live your life. You want to trust somebody? Maybe take a risk that I’m really your friend and I’ll accept you. It’s better than hiding.”_

_“Hiding?” Nico echoed, in a quiet, seething tone._

_Younger Jason didn’t falter. “Yes, hiding. You’ve run away from both camps. You’re so afraid you’ll get rejected that you won’t even try. Maybe it’s time you came out of the shadows. I_ am _your friend, Nico, whether you trust that or not.”_

_There was a long, charged moment. Again, Jason tried to get closer but again, he couldn’t._

_Finally, Nico spoke again._

_“I’m going to honor my promise,” he said, looking away from Jason. “I’ll take you to Epirus. I’ll help you close the Doors of Death. Then that’s it. I’m leaving—forever.”_

_“You don’t have to do that,” Jason replied softly._

_“I do,” Nico said. “I don’t expect you to understand.”_

_“You don’t,” Jason insisted back. “Look, Nico—”_

_“No,_ you _look,” Nico said, lowering his voice to a hiss. “You don’t get it. I can’t just belong anywhere I want, like you. I can’t belong anywhere at all. Let it go. I can’t just—just hang around, waiting to be kicked out.”_

_“It doesn’t have to be like that. It won’t be. I’ll be there for you.”_

_Nico’s lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. “How comforting.”_

_“I don’t—I just mean—” Jason cut off with a sigh. “I’ll be behind you. That’s all I’m trying to say.”_

_“I don’t need your pity.”_

_“It’s not pity. We’re friends.”_

_Nico scoffed. “I don’t have friends.”_

_Younger Jason took a step forward like he wanted to say something more, but Nico took a step into the shadows and melted away._

_The memory flickered out and Jason was left in the dark for a few long moments._

_A new vision began._

_This one was clearer, and yet less real. Jason had known, somehow, that the last one had been a memory. This one—_

_This one was a dream._

_Jason saw himself, as a teenager, stretched out on the hardwood floor of a dark cabin. Nico was stretched out on a bed next to him, the dark gray blankets pushed to the foot of it._

_“I’m glad you stayed,” Nico said softly. A gentle tone, distantly familiar, but that Jason knew he hadn’t heard from Nico in his current memories._

_Teenage Jason smiled up at Nico, starlight in his eyes. “Yeah, me too, actually.”_

_Nico snorted. “Actually?” he echoed._

_“Keep waiting for the guilt to hit,” Jason said. “But it hasn’t.”_

_There was a long moment of silence, where Jason could feel some charged meaning he couldn’t quite access._

_“Piper understand?” Nico asked, his voice low._

_Jason let out a short sigh. “Yeah. In the end, anyway. I think so. She was hurt at first.”_

_“Sorry.”_

_“It’s for the best.”_

_There was another silence. Younger Jason kept glancing up at Nico and then looking away nervously. Like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how._

_“Do you think Leo will find his way back?” he ended up asking._

_“I think…” Nico started. “That Leo can handle himself. He’s proven that much.”_

_Jason let out a soft sigh. “I guess.”_

_“You have to trust him, Grace.”_

_“I do, it’s just…”_

_“That you feel the urge to go find and rescue him because you always need to be the hero? Even if he already saved himself, even if you trust him to make it back?” Nico replied._

_Jason’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Well, when you put it like that…”_

_“You can be really predictable, Grace.”_

_“Hey,” Jason protested._

_“He’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. You can just decide to stay and be a kid for a while.” Nico let out a small sigh. “You’ve more than earned a break from the hero thing.”_

_In the silence that followed, Jason could almost see the blurred edges on the vision, the way it was all soft, unreal. He wondered where the dream had come from—if it was a relic from the version of his life he didn’t remember. It must’ve been. This dream wasn’t his, not exactly, but he knew it._

_Jason watched that younger version of him reach a tentative hand up, towards Nico’s. It took several tries, several hesitations. But after a little while, his fingertips connected with Nico’s. Nico stiffened but he didn’t pull away. Jason waited another couple of heartbeats before lacing their fingers together decisively._

_Nico let out a shaky breath. “What are you doing?” he asked, barely audibly._

_“Is this okay?” Jason replied, just as quiet._

_“That depends.”_

_“On?”_

_“On what it means.”_

_“It means… that I had several reasons for wanting to stick around,” Jason said carefully. “And you were a pretty major one.”_

_Another heartbeat. Another shaky breath._

_Nico’s hand twitched away, so their fingers were just barely still connected._

_“I’m—I’m really gonna need more than that, Jason.” His voice was small._

_“I like you, Nico.” Jason shifted his hand and rubbed a thumb against Nico’s wrist. “I wanted—I needed you to know that. And I thought, just, on the off chance that you felt the same…”_

_Nico suddenly gripped Jason’s hand tightly. “Stop talking.”_

_Jason smiled a little. “Okay.”_

_“If… If I did feel the same…”_

_“Whatever you want, Nico. I’m here. I can wait.”_

_“…Good to know.”_

_A beautiful dream, Jason thought._

_But he knew how dreams ended._

_You lived each gentle, heart-twisting moment of them. And then…_

_You woke up._

\---

When they emerged from the shadows, they appeared in this strange, beautiful city, with architecture that seemed like it was from another time. Jason could feel both Leo and Nico staring at him, gauging his reaction. He was trying to figure out his own reaction, too. The place was breath-taking, rolling green hills and a glittering river curling around the edge. A stone bridge that looked faintly like something Jason had seen in an architecture textbook before.

He felt his heartbeat, felt his pulse quicken in his wrist. He knew there was something here. But…

“Well, I don’t recognize it,” he said.

He didn’t. It was _something,_ he knew that. But it didn’t feel any clearer. If anything, it felt a little cloudier. Like something he _should_ remember but couldn’t touch. Like a gentle voice was coaxing him away from it.

“Well, guess it was never gonna be that easy,” Leo said with a sigh.

“Nothing ever is,” Nico replied. “Come on.”

“Uh—” Leo rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe you should go on ahead? Warn them, or something.”

“Probably a good idea,” Nico agreed. “I’ll—I’ll get everyone to Hazel’s place, alright?”

“Good luck,” Leo said.

Nico just shot him a look before melting back into the shadows.

Jason glanced around again. Up a hill, there were temples of various sizes. One large, imposing one, not too far from where they’d come in.

“You wanna go check it out?” Leo asked, watching him carefully.

Jason let his eyes rest on the building. There was an ache in his chest, something gentle telling him to leave it alone. Some soft voice telling him there was nothing for him there, that it would only hurt.

Maybe that was a sign.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice barely sounding like it was his.

“It’ll take Nico a bit to herd everyone together. Something about herding cats, right? That about describes us.” Leo clapped Jason on the shoulder. “A detour wouldn’t hurt. After all—that’s your dad’s place.”

“Jupiter?” Jason said.

Leo glanced at him, almost passing for nonchalant, as he led the way to the large temple. “You remembered?”

“No—Nico told me.” A bit of his dream resurfaced, pulling his attention. “He’s a son of Hades, right?”

“He tell you that, too?” Leo asked.

“No. _That,_ I remembered.” It was a small victory, but it was something.

“Hey, that’s promising,” Leo said, elbowing his arm and grinning. “It just, like, pop into your mind, or what?”

“A dream. I think I dreamt a memory.”

Jason stopped short of entering the open-air temple. He looked up at the towering statue, the hard-faced man who was glaring out at the world. White marble columns circled the statue, holding up the high domed ceiling. The floor was patterned with colorful mosaics. Jason didn’t want to step into it. He wanted to run away.

_Leave it alone—it’ll only hurt._

He cleared his throat, trying to pretend like he wasn’t having a reaction.

“I’ve been having weird dreams lately,” he said.

“Ah, weird dreams are sort of part of the demigod deal,” Leo told him. He’d stopped next to Jason, not crossing into the temple either.

“I don’t usually remember my dreams at all,” Jason replied.

“Huh. Weird.” Leo glanced at him. “Any memories popping up?”

Jason shook his head, keeping his eyes on the statue.

It was a staring contest he’d never win.

“I don’t think this is helping,” Jason said.

“Worth a shot,” Leo said with a shrug. “We can head out, then. No offense, but your dad kinda gives me the creeps.”

“Should you be saying that at his temple?” Jason asked, feeling a small, amused smile on his lips.

Leo scoffed. “Pretty sure I’ve been _daring_ the gods to strike me down my whole life. Hasn’t worked yet.” He paused and shot Jason an impish grin. “Well, it hasn’t stuck, at least.”

Jason was sort of afraid to ask what that was supposed to mean. He just followed as Leo led them away again, back towards the streets.

“So did Nico tell you to not insult the gods, then?” Leo asked.

“No, that—no, I guess I just figured…”

“Reasonable enough.”

“Nico didn’t seem to want to tell me much, actually,” Jason said, furrowing his brow.

Leo looked away, a little uncomfortably. “Yeah, um. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

It sounded like that wasn’t quite the full story, but Jason refrained from pushing it.

“So this place…” Jason said slowly.

“You grew up here,” Leo replied. His tone was careful and serious. “You didn’t talk about it much, so I can’t say anything for sure but… I got the impression it wasn’t easy for you.”

“Oh.”

As they walked, Jason tried to imagine being a child there.

He couldn’t.

After weaving through the stone streets, Leo ended up leading him up a flight of stairs, to an apartment along the quiet edges of the shops.

Leo hesitated, taking a breath before knocking.

The door swung open, the girl behind it already talking. She was shorter, with long dark hair that was braided and tied back from her face.

“Okay, _what_ is this about, Leo? Because Nico is being cryptic about it, and I just—”

“Hazel,” Leo said, cutting her off. He gestured to Jason.

Her gaze flickered over to him and then she froze, her brown eyes widening.

“I guess you should come in,” she said, her voice much softer.

\---

_“Jason? Jason Grace?”_

_Jason turned, confused, towards the voice._

_A girl was standing on the sidewalk, staring at him. She was a little older than him, almost his height—pretty, with brown hair and freckles. She smiled as their eyes met._

_“It_ is _you! God, it’s been ages hasn’t it?” she said, bubbly. She took a few steps towards him to give him a quick hug, but he was still frozen._

_He offered a tentative, sheepish smile. “Um—hi there,” he said slowly. He strongly considered just pretending he knew her._

_But she noticed his confusion._

_“Oh, you don’t remember me, do you?” she said. She let out a sweet little laugh. “Figures! You’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you.”_

_“Sorry,” he said._

_“No, no, it’s totally fine,” she replied shaking her head. “I’m Hannah—I guess you must’ve been eleven when I left camp?”_

_“We… went to camp together?” he asked slowly. He didn’t really remember going to camp, but it sounded possible—summer camp when he was eleven? That was something people did, right?_

_“We only overlapped for about a year, I think,” she said. “And I left and never looked back, so. I imagine they didn’t talk about me much there.” She laughed a little, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “They never were too keen on people jumping ship, were they?”_

_Jason blinked. That didn’t sound quite like any summer camp he knew of, but…_

_He felt himself pulled away from the thought. No, it must just be a weird summer camp—he probably didn’t remember because…_

_“So what have you been up to, then?” Hannah asked brightly. “The great Jason Grace, right? I bet you got yourself into all kinds of trouble.”_

_Jason let out a short, slightly nervous laugh. He wasn’t sure what she was getting at, but something about it made him uncomfortable. Like it was picking at something he was trying to forget. He didn’t really know what kind of trouble she was expecting to hear about._

_He pulled away from that thought, too._

_“Honestly, I’ve just been going to school,” he replied. “Nothing too exciting.”_

_Hannah’s smile softened. “Good for you. I’m glad you managed to get out. I mean, if it was too much pressure for me, I can’t even—” She cut off, shaking her head. “Sorry, too serious! Hey, listen, are you in Denver long?”_

_“Uh, I live here.”_

_“Great! We need to catch up—IM me sometime, yeah? We can get coffee or something.”_

_“Sure, sounds good.”_

_“Cool! Well, I’m late, so I gotta get going—” Hannah hugged him again. “Great to see you, really.”_

_It didn’t occur to Jason until after she was gone that he had no idea how he was supposed to contact her._

\---

Jason wasn’t pretty sure he’d never had that many eyes fixed on him at once. Not that he remembered, anyway. The room was dead silent, like everyone was holding their breath. They all looked stunned.

 _Like I’ve come back from the dead,_ Jason thought to himself.

Leo cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he said, gesturing widely towards Jason. “Tada?”

“Jason, how—” The black-haired guy with the startlingly green eyes was the first to speak.

“He has amnesia,” Nico interjected. He was leaning against the wall, off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest. “He doesn’t remember—well, any of us.”

Green-eyed guy abruptly turned his gaze to Nico. “So that’s why you—”

Nico cleared his throat quickly, cutting whatever the guy was about to say off. “What I know so far is that Leucothea saved him from, uh—” He glanced at Jason. “Well, she saved him. Brought him to shore.”

Green Eyes frowned. “Leucothea? Wait, I know her.”

“You should. Minor sea goddess.”

“Why would she—”

“Why _wouldn’t_ she have?” Nico said with a short sigh. “It’s Jason.”

It sounded like it should’ve been a compliment, but Nico said it with such resigned exasperation.

“Someone needs to call Piper,” the girl Leo had called Hazel said.

“And Thalia,” the girl with the long blonde hair added. They were both staring intently at Jason, unblinking.

“Reyna, too,” Nico said.

“Dude,” the tall, broad-shouldered guy said. He was the first one to move, walking over and hugging Jason tightly.

“Uh—hi.” Jason hesitantly hugged him back.

When the guy pulled away, he was slightly misty-eyed.

“Oh, shit, right,” the green-eyed guy said, like he just noticed he hadn’t moved. He hugged Jason, too, keeping an arm over his shoulders when he pulled away. “Y’know, Frank, I think that makes you the only person in this room who hasn’t come back from the dead.”

The tall guy—Frank—frowned. “You haven’t—”

“I’m counting falling into Tartarus for me, Nico, and Annabeth,” green-eyed guy explained.

Frank’s frown deepened. “I want Piper to get here,” he said. “I don’t want to be alone in this.”

“I’m not sure falling into Tartarus counts,” the blonde girl said.

“It totally counts,” Green Eyes said. “Nico, back me up.”

“Is that _really_ the most pertinent thing here?” Nico said coldly.

“Honestly? Just trying to not lose my mind here. Give us a verdict.”

Nico let out a sigh. “Given the odds one has of making it out of Tartarus, I’ll allow it.”

Green Eyes shot a wide grin at the blonde girl. “I win,” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, that’s fun, means I get to count coming back from the dead _twice,”_ Leo chimed in. “Nine lives, like a cat. Who wants to help me test it?”

Nico shot Leo a dark glare.

“I just have _more_ questions now,” Jason said.

“We rarely have answers!” Leo said brightly.

“Jason, the guy hanging on you is Percy, the other guy is Frank. And this is Annabeth and Hazel,” Nico said, gesturing to each of them in turn.

“Right, we could’ve started there,” Percy said.

“It’s hard to introduce yourself to someone you already know,” Nico replied with a forced smile.

Jason looked at him, thinking back to that day on the street. Nico was avoiding his gaze.

There was a brief, tense silence.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Frank said, in a steady tone. “I’m going to make us all tea. We’re going to sit down and try not to freak out.” He turned to Jason. “And you’re gonna tell us your side.”

A few minutes later, they were all gathered in the living room in silence, mismatched mugs in front of them. Frank had brought the dining room table chairs in and set them up around the coffee table. Percy and Annabeth were sitting close together on the couch, and Hazel had taken the chair next to them. Nico had pulled his chair a little bit out of the circle, like he was edging away.

Jason took a seat between Leo and Frank, holding his still-too-hot tea and staring down into it.

There was a strange kind of silence as it seemed like everyone was moving past the initial shock and settling into—

Whatever their genuine reactions were.

It was hard for Jason to tell how everyone felt. Far as he could gauge, the easiest to read was Frank, who’d managed to stay level-headed and was watching Jason with a gently expectant gaze.

Nico in particular was completely unreadable. Jason couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all.

“We’ve got the magic calming tea,” Leo announced. “Now what?”

“How about you just tell us where you’ve been?” Frank said softly to Jason.

So he did.

Jason told them, in short, stilted sentences, what the past several years of his life had been like, starting from the point where he woke up alive on that beach.

That had been eight years ago.

Jason didn’t remember how he’d made it from California to Denver, but that’s what happened. He moved to Denver alone, with little consideration for what and who he might be leaving behind. It was never more than a passing thought that he had family or friends from before.

His life, all those years, had been quiet. Mundane. He went to college. He had interesting classes, some boring ones, teachers he liked. He lived in a little apartment not far from campus and he worked at the school library. And it went on like that, and in retrospect, he realized how little attention he paid to his own existence.

How could he explain his life? He’d never had to tell anyone the story before, and it was only striking him now as he spoke how vague it all was. How strange in its own normalcy.

He got a bachelor’s degree in English. He skipped the graduation ceremony. He got a master’s in library science. He skipped that graduation ceremony, too. He had friends in his classes, sort of—people he studied with, at least. No one he felt compelled to keep in touch with.

He’d had one semi-serious relationship in those eight years. A girl named Emily he dated junior and senior year of undergrad. She was pretty—level-headed and smart, too. They broke up after graduation, when he stayed in Colorado and she moved away. Their breakup was reasonable—a sort of passionless agreement that it was better that way.

He was never very close to her, he supposed. Just like with his friends from classes, there was always some strange distance, something that kept him from caring too much about anyone.

When he decided to move to California, in some half-hearted attempt to feel connected again, he didn’t have anyone around that he needed to tell.

He got a job as an archival assistant at a library in Berkeley, and he moved, without ceremony.

His life story didn’t take very long, in the end.

When he finished talking, he glanced around, gauging reactions.

He wasn’t sure what he found.

“Dude,” Leo said, in a strangely serious tone.

“That sounds… lonely,” Frank said.

Annabeth cleared her throat. “No, it’s—it’s nice, that you got that kind of normalcy. You never got to have that kind of thing before.”

“But _eight years_ of just—” Percy started, brow furrowed.

“Percy,” Annabeth cut off.

“At least it was safe,” Nico said.

“What is _with_ you?” Leo muttered, shooting him a glare.

Nico matched his hard gaze. “Well, I’m _right,”_ he said sharply. “Whatever else we think of the life Jason’s had up until now—he’s been _alive._ Which, I feel like I shouldn’t _have_ to remind you, _he wasn’t before._ When he was part of _our_ world, he died before his seventeenth birthday.”

“He was _alive,_ but he wasn’t himself,” Leo argued back.

Nico glanced towards Jason, a cutting iciness in his eyes. “He got _himself_ killed,” he said evenly.

“You’re impossible,” Leo said.

Jason shrank. He finally got why Nico had been acting so strange towards him—he was mad at him for dying. Maybe he had been for years.

“Regardless,” Frank cut in. “Jason’s here _now.”_

“And what about before that?” Annabeth asked, directing the question to Jason.

“Before?” Jason repeated.

“What _do_ you remember?” she said. “From before you… drowned.”

He paused for a moment, trying to consider it through the haze.

“Uh—my dad… left when I was really young. My mom died. I think… I was raised with my aunt and my sister… No, wait—my sister and I were separated at some point. I was raised by my aunt.” He had to force the words. He wondered, absently, why he’d never really thought about his childhood. Why he only seemed to have passing memories, why they were all so soft and distant. “I’m from California. I know that. I grew up in… in Berkeley, I think.”

“What else? School? Friends? A home?” Annabeth insisted.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut to think about it. “I remember a home, I think. A house with a porch wrapped around it. An oak tree. The sound of windchimes.”

“Anything else?”

He tried. Really, he did.

“There are… some weird flashes,” he admitted, thinking of the familiar dreams he’d been having, of the memories he’d always sort of dismissed because they didn’t quite fit. “Like. I remember… peacocks. For some reason. Wolves, too. I remembered Nico’s name. A guy… holding fire…”

“What, like this?” Leo said, putting his hand out. His palm immediately ignited.

Jason blinked. “Um. Exactly like that.”

“Leo,” Frank chided. “No fire inside.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Leo replied, closing his hand, a small wisp of smoke left behind. Leo shot Jason a grin. “Glad to know part of me survived the brainwashing you went through, though.”

“Brainwashing?” Annabeth said, arching an eyebrow.

“Well—” Leo gestured vaguely “—what _else_ can we call it?”

“We don’t know what happened,” Frank said.

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s all kind of… vague. Sort of cloudy. Either it’s sort of dreamlike, or it’s just flashes of memories I can barely hold onto.”

He opted not to mention his dream. It was too soon to tell if that would amount to anything.

“Hazel—” Nico said, leaning forward a little. “See what’s going on with the Mist. Because he _saw_ Lamia, but…”

She gave a quick nod. She turned to Jason, taking a breath.

There was a strange sensation behind Jason’s eyes. The entire room seemed to flicker in and out for a moment, though he couldn’t quite catch any particular images.

He blinked a few times, and Hazel had tilted her head as she studied him.

Jason shifted, a little uncomfortable with the scrutiny. She looked away.

“It’s not the Mist,” Hazel said, frowning thoughtfully into the air in front of her. “Not exactly.”

Nico sighed. “Great. Just great.”

“It’s something _like_ the Mist…” she elaborated. “But it’s more internal. Like instead of altering his mind and sight, it’s more altering… his heart and feelings.”

“Well, that sounds… worse.”

“It might be,” Hazel admitted. “I’m not sure _what_ it is. I haven’t seen this kind of magic.”

There was a long moment of silence. A deeply uncomfortable one. Jason felt a prickling at the back of his neck, truly uneasy at the idea that he might not be able to trust his _feelings._ He didn’t even fully grasp what the Mist they were talking about was, but at least there was a word for it. Apparently, whatever happened to him was going to be more complicated.

Which it seemed like everyone was realizing together.

“Alright, well,” Frank said, straightening up in his seat. “We need to start somewhere. I think it’s best if we get everyone else here.”

“Frank, it’s so sexy when you take charge,” Leo said with a grin.

Frank shot him an unamused glance. “First, Hazel and Nico, are you both good to shadowtravel?”

“Should be,” Nico replied.

“Yeah,” Hazel said.

“Great. Hazel, you take Leo to New York and get Piper. Nico, you and I will go to Oregon to get Reyna. Annabeth, Iris Message Thalia, track down the Hunters. Percy and Jason, you’re staying in New Rome.” Frank took a breath. “Given the distance and all that, it might take a day or two to get everyone back here. So Percy, see what you can do in the meantime. Maybe contact Leucothea.”

“I already talked to Leucothea,” Nico said. “I think she’s shared everything she’s going to.”

Percy shrugged. “I can take Jason to her shrine anyway. See if it sparks anything.”

“That’s the spirit. Any questions?” Frank said, glancing around at everyone.

“Um. I have a job? They’ll be wondering where I am,” Jason said.

“Yeah, call in sick,” Leo said with an amused snort. “No offense, dude, but I’m tempted to tie you to a chair to make sure you don’t disappear again.”

Annabeth shot him a glare. “We’re not holding you hostage.”

“Speak for yourself— _I’m_ totally holding him hostage,” Leo replied.

“If you can’t miss work—” Annabeth continued, ignoring Leo. “Percy can just keep in touch with you.”

Jason glanced at Leo with a slight smile. “I’ll call in sick, I guess.”

“Alright, I think that covers everything,” Frank said with a nod. “Let’s go.”

\---

_Moving back to California was a choice._

_Jason, if pressed, might not be able to explain most of his choices. How he ended up in Denver. How he ended up picking a major, going to grad school, even how he picked out the furniture in his apartment. Much of his life felt like it was someone else’s design, though it was never off enough to draw his attention._

_Nothing about his life felt like he wouldn’t have made those decisions. It all made enough sense for him to not think about it too much._

_But when he graduated with his master’s degree, when he realized there was nothing concrete tying him to Colorado…_

_It was_ his _choice to apply to jobs in California. His choice to seek out a place in the Bay Area, his choice to rent a car and pack up his life and drive all those miles._

_When he left, he thought about calling Emily. Just to tell her he was moving. In some sad way, he just wanted to share the news with someone, and it took him a few moments to realize that he wanted to tell her because he couldn’t think of anyone else._

_He didn’t call her. Last they’d talked, she had settled into a new life in Baltimore. She was doing well. They’d shared some vague promises to keep in touch, but neither of them had made the effort._

_With only a twinge of loneliness, Jason packed up his life and moved without telling anyone except his landlord._

_The drive was long, and quiet, and Jason thought about what he was looking for._

_Maybe he was just looking for some way to feel like he belonged. Like he was connected. Maybe he’d never really felt at home in Colorado, despite the years he lived there. Maybe he wanted to remember what it was like to have a home._

_If he’d ever known in the first place._

_He felt like there was something missing, he supposed. That was the simplest way to explain it._

_Maybe he’d find out what he’d lost._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter... might have More Perspectives. Possibly. We'll see.  
> Comments are always appreciated!


	6. where we are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not alone. Remember that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to share how Extra I'm being right now, I've made two (2) playlists for this fic. One from Nico's POV, one from Jason's. This is where I'm at.

Nico was getting more and more frustrated, with himself and with everyone else. Everything was itching at him, prickling like a cat being pet backwards. He was half glad he was being sent off with Frank to get Reyna, because honestly, they might be the only two people he could deal with at that moment.

The tension with Leo was tangible, how they weren’t on the same page for what seemed like the first time in years.

And everyone was just _reacting_ and having _emotions,_ and Nico didn’t even want to start to touch his own feelings. He didn’t even want to think about why he was so mad, why he was so helpless. It was too much, and it was harder and harder to handle, with Jason just _there,_ getting closer and closer to looking like himself.

Nico had thought he’d let go of so much of… _this._

He hadn’t, he supposed. He’d just ignored it and brushed it away, and he hadn’t had to face it.

But the depths of his complicated, messy feelings were getting ready to drag him down, and all he wanted was to be _over all of this,_ but he couldn’t. The best he could do was take a breath and keep himself as cold as possible until he had the time to…

Something. Maybe what he needed was to just… let everyone else figure this out. They’d have plenty of minds and hands on the issue when everyone reconvened. Maybe Nico could bail after that, head to Camp Half-Blood, or Austin, or the Underworld.

He was halfway to making the decision to run away when Hazel pulled him away from the group, with a whisper that they needed to talk before splitting up.

It wasn’t exactly unexpected, but Nico had sort of been dreading it.

“Are you… _okay?”_ Hazel asked meaningfully, when they were out of the way of everyone else.

Nico loved his sister. Really, he loved her _so much._ He’d do anything for her.

But being asked if he was _okay_ in a moment like this really made his fight or flight instincts kick in. He was hoping that the whole situation would be too overwhelming for anyone to ask _him._ He didn’t want to think about whether or not he was okay at all.

“I’m fine,” he said, his tone clipped.

“Nico,” Hazel said, her tone edging on chiding.

He shot her a sidelong look, like _drop it._

She crossed her arms. “I need to ask, and frankly, Nico, _you_ need to answer.”

They’d had conversations like this before.

He clenched his jaw. If it hadn’t been _her_ asking, if it had been Percy or Annabeth, even Leo, there was a chance Nico would’ve just melted right into the shadows to get away from the conversation.

He channeled some of Praetor Jason’s aloof diplomacy and took a breath.

“I’ve come a long way since then,” he told her.

She was unimpressed. “That’s not an answer.”

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped.

“Just _talk_ to me, Nico,” she said, making an exasperated gesture with her hands.

“No, okay? No, I’m _really_ not okay, but honestly, that’s not important right now,” he hissed, glancing furtively towards the other room, some lingering fear that someone might hear him.

“It’s important to me,” she said softly.

He sighed. “Look, I—I’ll be fine. I will. This is just… a lot. Right now. And I don’t know how to deal with it.”

She studied his face, the crease between her brows deepening. “You’re not alone. Remember that.”

“I know,” Nico said. “I’m good, I swear. I just—”

He sort of gestured helplessly towards the other room.

“Eight _years,_ Hazel,” he said, barely audibly. Maybe _that_ was getting to him more than he wanted to let on. All the years he’d spent grieving Jason. All the years Jason had been…

Out there. Somewhere.

All these years that they lost, for whatever bullshit godly reason it was going to be _this_ time.

“I know,” Hazel replied.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” He didn’t even really know which part he was referring to. Maybe the part where it was just _insane_ that this was happening, maybe the part where he didn’t know how to pick up where they’d left, maybe the part when he was dealing with feelings he’d thought were _over_ by now.

Hazel shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think you have to know what to do. This is… not exactly something that comes with a guidebook.”

Nico sighed, hanging his head a little. “I want to be happy he’s back,” he said, quietly, like an admission.

“Give it time. It’s okay if you have complicated feelings here,” she replied. “It’s a lot.”

He twisted at his silver skull ring. Thinking of how long it had taken him to settle into acceptance, how much it had hurt to let go. “It’s just… after everything, after everything I went through, and he just… shows up again. Like nothing happened.”

Hazel was quiet for a few long moments. “I’m sorry,” she said suddenly.

Nico looked up, meeting her gaze.

Her deep brown eyes were wide, a little bit panicked. “I feel like I need to say it,” she rushed through. “I’m _so sorry_ I didn’t believe you back then.”

“Oh.” Nico blinked, surprised. “No, Hazel—no, it’s… You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But maybe if we’d—if we’d all _tried_ more—if we’d listened to you and Leo—”

“Hazel, stop—don’t, it’s okay.” He moved towards her, putting a hand on her arm.

“I still… I still _want_ to say that I’m sorry for it,” she murmured. She looked up at his with this small, flickering relieved smile.

“Thank you,” Nico said. Sincerely. “It’s not necessary. But thank you anyway.”

She hugged him, tightly. He put his arms around her, too. Not for the first time, he wished she’d gotten the chance to meet Bianca. Not for the first time, he felt a little clumsy and ill-equipped in the older-sibling role.

“Tell me when it gets hard, okay?” she said into his shoulder. “I’m here for you.”

“I know,” he replied. “I will.”

“Good.” She sniffed as she pulled away, taking a deep breath. “We should… get back out there.”

He squeezed her arm one more time. “Good luck with Piper. And with Leo.”

Hazel smiled. “Good luck with Reyna.”

\---

_Apologizing to Hazel hadn’t been the worst of it, but it had been close._

_“After everything you told me about Bianca abandoning you—” The way Hazel’s voice broke into a tired sob might’ve been the worst of it._

_“I know,” Nico said, his own voice strained._

_“How could you?” She spoke like the words had been eating at her for months. They probably had been—Nico hadn’t given her much of a chance to talk to him before now._

_“I’m sorry,” he said, again, because what else could he really say? He remembered telling her about how much it had hurt him when Bianca had joined Artemis, and then again when she had died. He remembered vowing to himself that he’d never leave Hazel like that._

_“You could’ve just talked to me.” She wiped a hand across her cheek, sniffling. She curled in on herself, looking smaller and younger. “I would’ve been there for you. I wanted to be.”_

_“It wasn’t—” It was hard to explain to Hazel the level of self-destructive he’d been these past several months. He didn’t know how to phrase it, how to explain that he knew he could’ve gone to her. He trusted her, he loved her—if he hadn’t been so lost, he would’ve wanted her to be there for him, too. “It wasn’t you, Hazel.”_

_“Nico, I know—I know you deal by pushing people away, I get that, but you’re not supposed to push_ me _away. It’s supposed to be different with us.” She looked down at her feet. “It used to be. It used to be different with us. You didn’t used to treat me like everyone else.”_

_“We’re still us,” Nico said softly. “I won’t—it won’t happen again. I promise.”_

_“And what, I’m just supposed to believe you? After all this?” she muttered, hugging her arms around herself._

_“No, just… let me prove it to you.” Nico knew better than most that you couldn’t just ask for someone’s trust. You had to deserve it._

_Hazel sighed, her shoulders drooping a little. “You really promise?”_

_“I’ll swear on the River Styx if you need me to,” Nico replied._

_Hazel shook her head a little. “You just… I thought I was going to lose you, Nico. You really scared me.”_

_A lump grew in his throat. He shifted closer to her, tentatively putting an arm around her, hoping he’d be allowed. Almost right away, she leaned into his side, pressing her face into his shoulder._

_“I’m not making excuses,” he said slowly. “But… Jason’s death, it hit me hard. It was like Bianca’s. I didn’t know what to do. And I get that I should know better by now. But I just felt like I was that stupid ten-year-old kid again, completely alone in the world, like it didn’t matter what happened to me anymore.”_

_“You’re not alone anymore, though,” Hazel mumbled._

_“I know. And I’m sorry I lost sight of that.” He tightened his arm around her shoulder. “I won’t make that mistake again. I’m sorry I scared you.”_

_Hazel let out a breath. “I’m not gonna stay mad at you, but…”_

_“Leo and I made a deal,” Nico told her. “We’re done. No more… no more trying to bring him back. It’s over.”_

_Hazel snorted. “Tell Leo he owes us all an apology, too.”_

_Nico relaxed, some relief settling onto his shoulders. Things would be okay. They’d have to be._

_“He knows,” Nico said._

\---

After the others left and Annabeth urged the two of them out so she could get to contacting Thalia, Percy led them back towards the collection of temples, his hands shoved in his pockets.

Jason wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was mostly trying to figure out what his dynamics with all these people looked like. Clearly, he and Leo had been close—and if his dreams were anything to go by, he’d had some unrequited feelings for Nico at some point.

(Maybe he _still_ did, considering his reaction to seeing him on the sidewalk that day. That seemed like something he could worry about another time.)

As for everyone else, he wasn’t sure. It was one of those things that was hard to just… talk about.

He’d asked Nico what they were to each other, and he’d said _friends_ and _less._ And maybe, from Nico’s perspective, that really had been their relationship. But Jason was _sure_ that it wasn’t true for _him_.

No matter what, really, none of these people could tell him how _he’d_ felt about them.

And maybe he couldn’t really trust his feelings after all, but he wasn’t sure where that left him. Where it left any of them.

Coming back from the dead was, apparently, an altogether bizarre experience. Trying to piece together a life you didn’t remember from the fragments you collected wasn’t easy, either.

Percy paused by Jupiter’s temple. “So uh—” he gestured. “Your dad’s place.”

Jason kept his distance. “Yeah. Leo and I stopped by on the way in.”

“Always seemed a little much to me,” Percy said, crossing his arms as he looked up to it. “I mean, the whole place is already called Camp Jupiter, right? Is it necessary to _also_ have the tagline _the best and the greatest_ on your temple?”

Jason swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. He looked up at the temple, at the statue in it. He shifted farther away.

“Maybe we should just—” Jason cleared his throat. “Go. Somewhere else.”

Percy turned to look at him. There was something solemn in his gaze, something a little intense.

“Sorry. Must be a lot for you.”

Jason took a breath. “Something like that.”

Percy clapped his hand on Jason’s shoulder, smiling brightly.

“Let’s explore the rest of Temple Hill,” Percy offered. “And we can see about Leucothea’s shrine. Yeah?”

“Sure,” Jason replied. Maybe a little stiffly.

Percy pulled his arm away, misinterpreting Jason’s tone.

“Sorry, too familiar?” Percy laughed self-consciously, rubbing a hand against the back of his head. “This is a little weird for me. But I get that I’m basically a stranger to you, right?”

Jason let out a short laugh, too. “Honestly? I’m just not sure how _I’m_ supposed to act.”

“Dude, there is no _supposed to,_ ” Percy said, shaking his head. His smile was reassuring and warm. “The situation is batshit, but not all of it has to be complicated. We were friends. Whatever you wanna say, however you feel like acting right now, it’s cool with me.”

“I guess I don’t know how I feel like acting, either,” Jason replied. He glanced back towards Jupiter’s temple.

Percy shrugged. “That’s cool, too.”

Jason smiled gratefully and followed Percy further up the hill. Most of the temples were much smaller than Jupiter’s. Which he supposed made sense, considering the name of the camp.

He was starting to wonder how he’d managed to grow up under the weight of his father’s eyes, under the weight of his father’s name.

“Here, _my_ dad’s temple,” Percy said, stopping in front of a small temple with a trident out front.

“Neptune?” Jason replied.

“Well—Poseidon. There’s a whole thing with Greek gods and Roman gods. But yeah, Neptune is his Roman name,” Percy said.

Jason found himself envying the way Percy was looking at his father’s temple, with more affection than apprehension. Jason couldn’t imagine having anything close to that kind of ease with Jupiter.

“Leucothea’s shrine is just to the side,” Percy said, gesturing. Along the side of the temple, there was a line of small shrines, no bigger than a sundial or a birdhouse. “This is where they ended up putting shrines for the minor gods in Neptune’s domain.”

Jason paused. “She didn’t get her own temple?”

Percy hesitated. “Well—she was going to. But _you_ were in charge of that.”

“Oh.” Jason took a few steps closer. The shrines looked close to identical, with very few things to indicate they were honoring different deities. Only the brass labels indicated which one was Leucothea’s. “And no one else decided to do it?”

“Well, no one else knew how,” Percy replied. “It was your project. And yeah, no one was about to take up the responsibility of living up to _your_ work. Too much pressure, I think.”

Jason ran a finger along the one seashell that sat alone on Leucothea’s shrine.

So this was the goddess who’d saved his life. It seemed a shame he hadn’t been able to build the temple for her.

“Anything?” Percy prompted.

“I don’t think so,” Jason said.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Percy replied. “Want to wander the hill? See if anything sticks out?”

Jason offered a silent thanks to the goddess, though he didn’t feel like she could hear him.

“Sure,” he said, heading back to the walking path where Percy was.

They walked further up the hill, passing temples and trees and benches. Jason made an effort to study everything, trying to catch onto anything familiar. Anything that made him feel like he’d been there before.

The truth was he wasn’t sure how he felt. He didn’t know if he had this prickling discomfort because there were memories beneath the surface, or because he knew that he _should_ remember.

“So you’re Poseidon’s son,” Jason said, conversationally. Distinctly aware that it was sort of a ridiculous thing to say in such a matter-of-fact tone. He probably should think this was crazier than he did. “What about everyone else?”

“Oh—Annabeth is Athena’s daughter. Leo’s dad is Hephaestus, Nico’s is Hades. We’re the Greek demigods,” Percy explained. “On the Roman side, Hazel’s dad is Pluto and Frank’s is Mars.”

“Huh. Leo and Nico didn’t really give me the rundown,” Jason replied.

Percy cleared his throat, glancing at Jason and forcing a smile. “I mean, we’re all lucky that they’re managing to remain conscious and upright,” he said, in a tone that just missed the mark of being joking.

Jason stared at him for a moment.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked slowly.

Percy’s smile faded.

“Well, Leo and Nico—” He let out a sigh. “Honestly, I’m not sure it’s my place to tell you.”

“No one else is going to,” Jason replied.

“You’re probably right about that.”

“So just… What is it?”

Percy took a deep breath, taking a seat on a nearby bench that overlooked the winding river. He gestured for Jason to join him.

They sat in a steady quiet for a few moments, the blue sky and mild breeze feeling strangely light next to Percy’s heavy expression.

“Nico and Leo… Let’s say they both have trouble accepting when things are outside of their control.” Percy looked down in his palms. “When you died, it was hard on everyone. You mattered to all of us. In a lot of moments, you were the one that held us all together. And when you died, it was so… _unexpected._ Which is—well, it’s crazy, for demigods. There was a whole prophecy predicting that you or Leo would die, so as awful as it was—when Leo died, we weren’t blindsided in the same way.”

“Um. Back up. I think I’m missing some things.”

Percy’s mouth twitched up in a smile. “No one told you about the prophecy.”

He said it flat. Not a question.

“Guess it didn’t come up,” Jason replied.

“Alright, short version: that’s how we all know each other, really. The Prophecy of the Seven.”

Jason felt a prickle at the back of his neck. “There was a bronze ship. With a dragon head.”

Percy glanced at him, surprised. “You remember?”

“Not exactly. Something from a dream.” Jason shook his head. “It’s not super clear.”

“It’s a start,” Percy offered. “In any case, yeah. Leo built that ship. The _Argo II.”_

“So the prophecy—”

“Right. Yeah. The _prophecy.”_ Percy was saying the word with increasing bitterness. “One of the drawbacks of being a demigod—of which, I’m telling you, man, _there are a whole lot._ Anyway—the prophecy said either you or Leo would die. Leo made sure it was him, went down in a blaze of glory, very dramatic. But he figured a way to bring himself back in the end.”

“Christ.”

“No kidding. Leo’s like that.”

“I take it that it was different with me.”

Percy snorted. “You could say that. It was months later, first of all—maybe it was stupid, but some of us were under the impression that after all that, we were gonna catch a break and be safe for a while. Instead, you got killed on someone else’s quest. There was no way for any of us to be prepared for that. It was… fucking tragic, dude. You were supposed to be done.”

Jason let out a breath. He waited for the news to hit him. But just like with Nico telling him he’d died, it just made sense. Like— _Oh, sure, yeah. That tracks._

“Guess I sort of get why Nico was…” Jason struggled to figure out how to put it. “Offering the choice to not remember.”

“Yeah. Well, anyway, the shock of it sucked for all of us. Like, seriously, deeply sucked. Most of us hadn’t even seen you in ages—assuming we’d get the chance to hang out again, I guess. Assuming we’d have time.” Percy watched the water in the river. “But Leo and Nico… I think they won the _who coped the worst_ game.”

“Oh.”

“Look, man, I don’t want to tell you their business. And honestly, even if I did, there’s a lot I don’t know about what they went through.” Percy turned to him, his green eyes strikingly serious. “But dude. I feel like you should know. The two of them, they went through a _lot_ to try and get you back.”

Jason blinked, not sure what to say. “They did?” he ended up replying, his voice small. Maybe it was a little too obvious that he had a hard time imagining anyone caring about him like that.

Percy’s mouth twitch up in a soft, sad smile. “Honestly, it got to the point where we were all afraid we’d lose two more friends.”

“That’s… wow.”

“I’m mostly telling you so that—well, if they act weird… If Leo’s pushy, or if Nico’s cold—they have their reasons, alright? This can’t be easy for them.”

Jason honestly didn’t know what to do with that. He looked out at the river.

\---

_It had taken a while for them to all be in the same room again._

_Well, most of them, but Percy was trying not to dwell on that any more than he had to. Which was just a little complicated, since they’d gotten together specifically for Jason’s birthday._

_He would’ve been twenty. He never even made it to seventeen._

_Percy was really tired of outliving his friends._

_It had been Piper’s idea, getting together that day. Most of them hadn’t been able to make it to Jason’s funeral at Camp Jupiter for one reason or another. It was hard to have meaningful memorials in the middle of a crisis._

_Percy was glad that Piper had brought it up—and he was sure that even if anyone didn’t want to come, they wouldn’t have had the heart to refuse. No charmspeak required—Piper’s heartfelt message that they all needed to mark the occasion, that they all needed to be together, was plenty on its own._

_Since Jason’s death, anytime any of them did manage to get together, it always felt like there was a cloud following them, and no one seemed to want to mention it. It ate at Percy, a little bit, the way they never talked about Jason. He knew that part of it was just that it was too hard to—and part of it was for fear of bringing up the dark spiral of grief that had made them nearly lose Leo and Nico, too._

_They were gathered around the table at Percy and Annabeth’s new apartment, having decided that New Rome would be the easiest place for everyone to get to._

_Percy and Annabeth had only moved in together a few months earlier. They’d been living at the dorms of New Rome University before that, sneaking to each other’s rooms on occasion._

_“When he was in the Fifth Cohort—” Frank was in the middle of saying, “Jason had this whole pretend-hazing thing he’d do with new members.”_

_Hazel’s eyes widened. “I totally forgot he was the one who started that!”_

_Frank grinned. “Yeah—it’s an open secret that the First and Second Cohorts have some hazing rituals they do with new recruits. We don’t know what exactly they do, but the rumors make it sound pretty brutal.”_

_“Camp Jupiter,” Annabeth muttered disapprovingly, shaking her head._

_“I know, it’s not great—we’re trying to manage that,” Frank admitted. “But Jason, when he was in charge of the Fifth—he started this tradition where the established members would ‘haze’ the new kids by waking them up in the night and bringing them to the top of Temple Hill with a bunch of brownies and contraband candies. He’d have a whole speech for them about why the Fifth was the best cohort—because we were welcoming, and we were fair, and we’d never make them feel anything less than at home.”_

_Hazel shook her head and smiled. “We tried, but no one could do the speech as well as Jason.”_

_Reyna stared at them, her eyes glimmering a little. “I never knew about that,” she said._

_Frank pointed an accusatory finger at her. “And you better not tell anyone,” he said, his tone joking. “Privileged Fifth Cohort information, you’re all taking it to the grave.”_

_Hazel nodded. “Our best kept secret,” she said with a faux-solemn air._

_Piper laughed. “Gods, that sounds like him.”_

_Sharing memories and stories wasn’t easy. Everything felt like a minefield—just too close to something that would bring the mood down. They hadn’t had nearly enough memories that were just happy. Nothing was simple. So much of their time together was weighed down, by the prophecy, by pain, by pressure._

_It didn’t help the mood that Leo and Nico were running late. It seemed like there was some tangible anxiety in the air from their absence. Percy was just hoping that once they got there, it would ease the tension rather than make it worse._

_It was only moments after Percy had the thought that there was a knock on the door._

_Before anyone got up to answer, Leo waltzed in, Nico trailing behind._

_“Can I just come it? I hope I can,” Leo said with a big smile. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic in the shadows.”_

_Piper got up first, heading over and hugging Leo. “Leo!”_

_“Hey, Beauty Queen,” Leo replied, hugging her back a little stiffly._

_She pulled away, beginning to lead them back over to the table._

_Percy watched as Piper started to reach out to Nico, her hand stilling in the air in indecision before she dropped it back to her side. “It’s good to see you, Nico,” she said softly._

_He offered her a quick smile before ducking away to greet Hazel._

_Percy wasn’t sure what to make of the tension in that interaction, but before he could think too much about it, everyone had settled around the table._

_It was awkward, at first. And it was hard to keep the levity. But they managed well enough._

_Percy thought that if Jason could see them, he would’ve appreciated the effort, at least. He was always good about offering credit for trying._

_Percy missed him. A lot._

_But at least he wasn’t alone in it._

\---

Honestly, Leo thought it was a _remarkable_ display of self-control that he hadn’t said _I told you so_ to anyone yet. Eventually, he was going to fully deserve a medal for refraining.

Nico hadn’t said it either, but he was clearly preoccupied with whatever weird hang-up he had, where he thought that Jason had somehow been better off brainwashed.

Leo was reeling. He had been reeling since Nico had brought Jason into the apartment.

Part of him was still waiting to wake up. Part of him was unbelievably terrified. Part of him was so happy he could cry.

There was no easy way to deal with any of that.

Hazel had never been quite as comfortable with shadowtravel as Nico was, so she missed, getting them a few blocks from Piper’s Brooklyn apartment. Without discussing it, they opted to walk the rest of the way rather than push their luck.

Leo was glad for it. He could use the air. He was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten enough oxygen since seeing Jason.

“So how are we telling Piper?” he asked. “I was thinking we spell it out in balloons, but that might be expensive.”

“Leo,” Hazel said, _in a tone._

Hey, at least if everyone was exasperated with him, no one was fully losing their minds. Win-win, Leo figured. He needed to joke; his friends needed a distraction. Always glad to be of service as the resident nuisance.

He hoped that Frank could keep _Nico_ from losing his mind. He was, actually, a little worried about the two of them going to get Reyna. That was just a whole lot of too-serious or too-sincere energy.

Leo or Percy could annoy Nico, Hazel or Annabeth had a chance of actually getting him to talk. Frank…

Well, Leo wasn’t sure. He honestly couldn’t really remember if Nico and Frank had ever, like, been alone together.

He told himself not to worry about Nico. Nico would be okay. He always was, even when it was against all odds.

Leo still kind of wished he’d switched places with Frank. If nothing else, it would’ve given him some peace of mind, to be able to be with Nico through this. Bonus points that he’d get a chance to ask Nico what the hell was up with him and not wanting Jason to remember who he was.

“Have you talked to Piper lately?” Leo asked.

Hazel glanced at him, blinking like she was surprised by the question. “Well, yeah. We talk at least once a week. Have you… not?”

She said it with the slow, careful tone of someone treading into sensitive territory.

Leo shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. “Beauty Queen has been busy with her dad. I try not to bother her.”

Hazel opened her mouth like she was going to call Leo out on the idea that he was _ever_ trying not to bother someone, but she seemed to change her mind, looking away a little guiltily.

The truth was, Leo and Piper _were_ still friends. It wasn’t like Calypso, who wanted nothing to do with Leo and was willing to listen to exactly none of his countless apologies. Piper had forgiven him for…

Well, she’d forgiven him for a lot of things. For dying the first time, for not telling her his plan, for taking so long to come back. For only coming back _after_ Jason had died, thus ruining their shot of _ever_ hanging out the three of them again. For deciding that death was something he could _totally fix,_ for treating Jason’s death like a machine rather than a tragedy, for nearly getting himself killed again, oh, maybe more times than she was comfortable with. For dragging her into it when he showed up at her door, bleeding, with broken ribs and a black eye. For going willingly into Tartarus, like he’d fully lost his mind, because he had.

(Probably, he suspected, she’d also had to forgive him for getting closer to Nico than he’d been with her, but that wasn’t exactly something they’d brought up.)

She’d forgiven him for all of it. But that didn’t mean it was easy to go back to the way things had been between them before.

Even without everything else, there was always going to be this strange Jason-shaped absence when they talked. Somewhere, underneath the Mist, they had memories together before knowing Jason. But…

Well, they never talked about that. Maybe they never even thought about it. Maybe after all the time, the Mist was still powerful enough to hold those months of their lives hostage.

Those few times the last several years they _had_ reminisced about their time in the Wilderness School, Jason was always in the stories.

Leo hadn’t really thought about the implications of that until _Nico_ had brought it up.

He made the conscious decision to avoid dwelling on it. There were bigger things happening. He could confront all _that…_

Later. He could confront it later.

When they got to Piper’s front door, Leo and Hazel both stood there in silence for a few, long moments. Leo was pretty sure they were both fully holding their breath.

He bit the bullet and knocked first. Hazel had gotten them this far, anyway.

Piper froze when she opened the door.

“Hey,” Leo managed to say, his voice a little choked.

Piper’s expression went through a series of shifts as she glanced between the two of them.

“I guess it’s safe to say you’re not just dropping in for a surprise visit?” she said apprehensively.

“It’s not bad news,” Hazel said quickly.

“One could even venture to say it’s _good_ news,” Leo offered.

Hazel glanced at him. “It is. Good news, that is. It’s just not… _easy_ news.”

Piper’s hand tightened on the door. “I guess you’d better come in, then.”

The reassurance that it was good news didn’t actually seem to comfort her. What a shock. Good news was usually _oh so very_ trustworthy for demigods.

As Piper led them into her living room, Leo looked around. It looked like her. He hadn’t actually seen her place. He always made time to hang out with her when she visited California, but if Leo was being honest, he still kind of felt like he was walking on eggshells around her. He wished their friendship was back to normal, but he always felt so guilty about what he’d put her through. And he was never sure how mad at him she’d been.

The walls were full of artwork—Leo recognized some from pictures she’d sent. Over the years, she’d made an effort to reconnect with her father’s extended family, getting close to some cousins of hers that were Cherokee artists. The paintings were beautiful.

“Nice place,” Hazel said politely.

“Thanks,” Piper said. “Just… take a seat anywhere. Can I get you anything? Water, soda—”

“Water would be great,” Hazel replied. “Shadowtravel.”

Piper nodded. “Leo?”

He cleared his throat. “I’ll take water too.”

As Piper slipped into the kitchen, Leo followed Hazel to the couch and sat next to her, settling down with a sigh.

“We _could’ve_ just brought balloons,” he muttered.

“Leo, don’t,” Hazel said, but some tension went out of her shoulders as she shot him a look.

He smiled as best he could. He tried not to think about making a run for the door to avoid whatever Piper was going to _look like_ after hearing the news. He didn’t want to see the shattered shock, whatever grief was going to get dragged to the surface.

He was sure he’d looked like he’d gotten hit by a train when he saw Jason. He’d definitely felt like it.

Piper came back in, setting the glasses on the table. Hazel gulped half of hers down right away. Leo was almost too nauseous to even think about it.

“So tell me,” Piper said as she sat across from them. “Do we have time to catch up, or do we need to cut to the chase?”

Leo and Hazel exchanged a look. Hazel looked just as conflicted as Leo felt.

“Uh—” Leo started. “Well, McLean, how about this? On a scale from _I let Nico drive my car and he abandoned it in the hills_ to _Percy and Annabeth tried to propose to each other at the same time,_ what kind of news can you handle right now with no small talk first?”

Piper’s eyes widened. “Percy and Annabeth are engaged?”

Hazel lightly hit Leo’s arm. “Leo, not your news to tell,” she said.

He raised his hands up. “Sorry! Just trying to think of other things that have happened recently.”

Hazel glared at him. “They were _going_ to tell you,” she said to Piper, “when they came to New York to share the news with Sally.”

“In my defense, I think their trip to New York could be… postponed. Now. Because of… new circumstances.” Leo couldn’t really imagine trying to focus on _anything_ else.

“That’s great, I’ll have to call them—” Piper started.

“Uh—” Leo said. “Hold that thought. You might want to come back with us to California.”

Piper paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “Okay… I think we can skip pleasantries. Tell me what’s going on.”

Leo turned to Hazel. “You do it. We’re taking turns. Nico told me, I told you, you tell Piper.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Hazel muttered.

“What? It’s _fair.”_

She ignored him, turning fully towards Piper and leaning forward a little. “It’s Jason,” she said, her voice low and level. “He’s back.”

“Wow, okay, ripping the band-aid off,” Leo muttered.

He hazarded a glance towards Piper. He had been dreading her expression when she heard the news, but he couldn’t not look.

Honestly, she just looked confused.

Leo imagined it was even harder news to swallow if you didn’t have the irrefutable evidence standing in your living room like an amnesiac Captain America.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Piper said. The quiver in her voice made Leo think that she _did,_ actually, understand, and she just wasn’t ready to allow herself any space to believe it.

He got that.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like, Beauty Queen,” he said. Piper flicked her gaze over to him. “Nico found Jason. He’s alive.”

“Are you—is this some kind of—Leo, this isn’t funny.” She swallowed hard, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I’d never joke about this,” he replied. “You know that.”

“No, of course I—but—” She stopped. “It’s… not possible.”

Leo almost laughed. “Uh, I think there are two people in this room that prove it _very much is_ possible.”

“But—no, I was there, he—” She took a shaky breath. “It’s been—it’s been _years,_ and—”

She cut off, and the silence felt excruciating. Leo wanted _desperately_ to make a joke to ease the tension, but even he could tell it so wasn’t the time. And anyway, there was no way he’d be able to find anything to say, even if he wanted to.

Piper took another breath. “I guess—” she started. “I’ll be coming back with you to California. Just give me some time to get ready and let people know.”

Hazel exhaled, like she’d be holding her breath. “Of course. I’ll have to rest before shadowtraveling us back anyway.”

“Fantastic,” Leo said, forcing a grin. “Who wants food?”

\---

_It wasn’t for lack of love that Piper broke up with Jason._

_She was pretty sure she’d been in love with him. But “pretty sure” was kind of the problem. She didn’t want to doubt herself, her own feelings. She was the daughter of the goddess of love—she knew that love needed to be something you were certain of._

_That didn’t mean it wasn’t hard, or that it didn’t hurt. She knew she’d made the right choice, but it was a hell of an adjustment._

_She still saw Jason as often as she could justify, and it was starting to feel more comfortable. The first few times, neither of them had any clue how to act around each other. The breakup had been excruciatingly amicable—Piper, frankly, almost wished that there’d been more anger in it, because this felt like they were leaving so much unsaid._

_She knew she was going to have to let that go. There would be no passion-filled confrontation. There would be no catharsis of anger, no outbursts of all the ugly emotions that came with how deeply unfair the whole situation was. Because it wasn’t either of their faults, and they couldn’t really be mad at each other._

_Feelings would go unsaid. Anger would remain unexpressed. And Jason, as always, was so reasonable about it all._

_He didn’t even comment on how often she visited his dorm, charmspeaking her way through the door and to his room. He just always greeted her with some guarded warmth, and acted like this was a normal way for friends to hang out._

_Tonight was one of those nights. She’d had a long day—nothing too bad, but she was feeling alone, and she just wanted Jason. It was almost too easy to lean on him when she needed someone. She was trying to pull away, give them both space, but she was having a hard time._

_Honestly, sometimes, she just wished she’d stayed at Camp Half-Blood. Or that he had. Maybe that would’ve been easier, being on opposite sides of the country, allowing them to drift and find their own ways. As it was, she was pretty alone on this coast, and sometimes it felt like Jason was the only person she could talk to._

_Her only solace was that it didn’t seem like he was making friends at his new school either, so maybe he needed her, too._

_She knocked lightly on his door, slipping in without waiting for an answer. He was stretched out on his bed reading, looking up when she latched the door behind her._

_“Hey,” he greeted, sitting up and closing his book._

_“Hey yourself,” she answered, shooting him a smile and taking a seat at his desk. Better to keep physical distance, at least. Platonic Friend Mode. “How’s it going?”_

_Jason cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses on his nose in a weirdly nervous gesture. “Fine. Y’know, just… fine. How about you?”_

_“Fine. Totally fine. You know, if you say it twice, it becomes twice as convincing,” she said._

_He let out a small laugh, barely genuine. “I’ve heard that.”_

_“You good, Sparky?” Piper asked._

_“Yeah, just—long day, I guess.” He gestured vaguely at the space around him._

_“Yeah, I know how it is. Me too.”_

_A sort of uncomfortable silence settled between them, and Piper felt like something was off. She’d gotten pretty good at reading people’s emotions, but Jason could be so controlled sometimes that it was hard to tell exactly what was going on with him._

_He didn’t seem to want to make much eye contact. Piper noticed that he hadn’t marked the page when he’d closed his book, and it was right at the edge of his bed, ready to slip to the floor._

_She gestured. “Your book.”_

_“Hm?”_

_“It’s gonna fall.”_

_He blinked, seeming confused for a moment. He hesitated just long enough for it to slip and hit the ground._

_He let out a long thin sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. “Right,” he said. He reached down to picked it up, brushing it off and putting it delicately on his bedside table._

_Piper tilted her head, studying the tension in his expression. He seemed stressed. Sad, too, a little bit, but she always thought there was some permanent heaviness in his eyes._

_Maybe she should’ve asked before coming over. Maybe that was a habit she should get into._

_“You seem—” she cut off, not sure how to say it. “—tired,” she settled on._

_“Something like that.” Jason didn’t seem keen on elaborating. When they were dating, that was always the kind of thing that ate at her. The way he hesitated to open up. The way no matter how many times she coaxed him into confiding in her, he never seemed to come to it naturally._

_Now, it didn’t hurt her feelings as his girlfriend. Now, it just made her ache for him a little bit, as his friend._

_“I can go, if you want to be alone,” she offered. She didn’t like being alone when she was having a hard time, but she knew he needed space sometimes. And maybe seeing each other so much after the breakup was harder for him than he’d let on._

_Jason smiled at her a little stiffly. “It’s not you,” he said._

_She arched an eyebrow._

_His smile got a little more genuine. “Okay, it’s not_ just _you. There’s… a lot, right now.”_

_“You want to tell me about it?” she offered._

_“It’s… I don’t know. Everything.”_

_She settled into the chair. “Everything?” she prompted._

_“Yeah. It’s this school, trying to be normal. It’s how boring everything is when the world isn’t on fire, which feels insane, because shouldn’t it be better that nothing horrible is happening? It’s… the work I’m doing with the Camps, honoring the minor deities, all the traveling and talking and diplomacy…” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s that Leo is still missing. It’s that neither camp feels… right. Things are weird with Reyna, and maybe they always will be, and everyone seems to have their own new things happening, and now… Nico isn’t even talking to me, and I don’t know why.”_

_“I’m sorry,” Piper offered. “It does sound like things are really piling.”_

_“No—no, it’s fine, I’m just… tired, I guess.”_

_“You don’t have to minimize it. You’re dealing with a lot.”_

_“No more than anyone else.”_

_“Jason.”_

_He sighed, dragging a hand down his face._

_“I just—I tried to Iris Message Nico. Earlier. He brushed me off completely.” Jason looked troubled._

_Piper studied his face for a moment. “I mean, isn’t that just what Nico is like?”_

_Jason shook his head. “Not with me. Not usually.”_

_“Maybe he’s dealing with things, too. You shouldn’t take it personally,” she replied. “From what I’ve heard, he’s been pretty busy in the camp.”_

_Jason was quiet for a moment, looking down into his palms. “You don’t get it.”_

_Piper pulled her knee to her chest, shifting on the desk chair. “You could tell me about it, then,” she replied mildly._

_“There’s nothing to tell,” Jason replied. “He’s pushing me away, and I don’t know why. I think he’s mad at me. But I don’t know what I did.”_

_“Sounds like you need to talk to him,” she said._

_Jason gestured vaguely in the air in front of him, his movement stilted and frustrated. “I’ve been trying. He won’t let me.”_

_“I didn’t really realize you two were close,” Piper commented. She watched the tension in Jason’s expression twist a little._

_Jason sighed. “Maybe we’re not,” he said, a heaviness in it._

_Piper hesitated. “Jason, what’s really going on?”_

_“Nothing. It’s just what I said,” he replied softly. “It’s hard, not being able to talk to Nico. Things are complicated with Reyna, and Leo’s still gone, and you and me—”_

_He cut off abruptly, glancing at Piper a little sheepishly._

_“Sorry,” he said._

_Piper smiled, a small, soft ache in her chest. “It’s okay. I know, things are weird. We’re still trying to figure this whole friends thing out; I get it.”_

_She did. It was strange for her, too. They were finding their footing, and some days hurt more than others. Most of the time, it was a little awkward. In the simplest way, it was just hard to know what they were supposed to do with their hands, since they couldn’t just hold each other’s anymore._

_“It’s just… I could talk to Nico.” Jason sighed, running a hand over his hair. “Feels like I’m running out of people I can talk to.”_

_“You can always talk to me,” Piper said._

_Jason shot her a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks,” he replied._

_With a little bit of regret, the realization that they were never really going to work out together solidified that much more in Piper’s mind. She did love him. And maybe she’d always wish, a little bit, that they’d been given a better chance to fall in love. But she could feel the way the puzzle pieces didn’t fit._

_“So he’s avoiding you?” Piper said. “Don’t let him.”_

_Jason took a breath. “Yeah.”_

\---

It was really clear to Nico, in times like these, how similar Reyna and Frank could be as children of war.

The thing was that peace looked really good on the both of them. Nico kind of always thought it was a side effect of their familiarity with and understanding towards the truth of war—they knew that the point of the war was to find the peace.

So in the peace, Nico was pretty sure they’d both managed to appreciate it better than anyone else. Nico knew that he and Leo both, at least, had a tendency to get antsy, maybe even a little bored, when there was nothing big happening. He knew Percy, too, had some trouble accepting when things were finally over.

It was difficult, after seemingly endless threats and prophecies and crises, to find that your life had settled and all you were left with was whatever was in your hands.

Meanwhile? After Frank retired as praetor, when they were all done fighting and when he’d served his time, he put down the weapons and let it go. Nico never even knew he _liked_ music until Hazel had shared the news that Frank had started teaching it to kids.

It was, apparently, a leftover love from when Frank had hoped he was Apollo’s son. It was never something he’d pursued much until the peace settled and he made the time for it.

Then there was Reyna—after _she_ retired as praetor, she left Camp Jupiter and New Rome. Nico had helped her move, actually—she hadn’t had much to pack, but he went with her anyway. She found a small house on the outskirts of a quiet town in Oregon. Surrounded by all that green, with weather that was less sunny than California.

Nico hadn’t seen her much recently, but he used to visit more. Similar to Frank, she had surprised everyone. She was a small-time local artist in her town, making metal sculptures. She’d asked Leo to help teach her some things about welding, and he had—and then he had given her his sister Nyssa’s number.

Frank and Reyna both never gave the impression that they were anticipating the next fight. They accepted the hard-won peace. Nico admired that.

Nico and Frank didn’t talk as they walked up the front path to Reyna’s house. Nico took a deep breath before he knocked.

After a few moments, Reyna opened the door, greeting him with a smile. “Nico! This is a surprise.”

“Um—yeah.” Nico tried to smile back.

“Praetor,” Frank said, with a small teasing grin and a bow.

“Praetor,” Reyna returned with the same shade of irony, bowing back. “Come on in, guys.”

They followed Reyna in. Nico glanced around—the place hadn’t changed much. It had just gotten more cluttered with books and tools and half-finished sculptures.

“Nyssa! We’ve got company,” Reyna called into the other room.

Nyssa appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, her dark hair tied back in a bun. “Oh. Hey, guys.”

Nico sort of awkwardly waved. He didn’t know Nyssa all that well—it was sort of weird for him, because she was one of the only siblings from the Hephaestus cabin that Leo kept in touch with consistently, and she was Reyna’s girlfriend. But he wasn’t sure they’d ever had a one on one conversation before.

“Sorry to show up unannounced,” Frank offered.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Nyssa said, waving him off. “You guys are always welcome, you know that. Leo here, too, or…?”

“Uh—not this time. He, um—” Nico glanced at Frank. “He had something to do.”

“Yeah,” Frank said slowly. He frowned a little. “We actually… have news to share.”

Reyna’s expression shifted, sobering a little. “Oh?” she said cautiously.

Nyssa frowned from the doorway. “Sounds serious.”

“It is,” Nico replied.

“Is everything okay?” Reyna asked.

“We think so,” Frank said. “It’s sort of complicated.”

“It’s Jason,” Nico said quickly, sort of unable to stand this.

“Okay,” Reyna replied seriously. “I’m listening.”

\---

_It was never the same, after Juno had taken Jason’s memories. Reyna really wanted them to be able to find a way to have the friendship they used to have, but maybe there were some things that were unfixable._

_Maybe he’d lost too much that he couldn’t get back, or maybe too much had happened, or maybe—Reyna’s favorite—they’d never really been that close to begin with, and this was just the thing that proved it in the end._

_She’d thought…_

_Well, she’d thought he cared about her as much as she cared about him. Even if it wasn’t the same, even if it was more complicated for him. Even if Jason’s feelings about Camp Jupiter were mixed and volatile, Reyna had never thought that his discomfort with the place extended to her._

_But maybe it had. Maybe he’d never been happy at Camp Jupiter, and she was a part of that._

_She wondered, often, if there were something she should have noticed._

_But thinking through their memories together, all those late nights and stolen days, she couldn’t find the signs that he was…_

_Well, that he was looking for a way out, she supposed._

_Maybe his time at Camp Half-Blood had just given him the space to figure out that Camp Jupiter would never be a home to him. Maybe he needed that space, that glimpse into a different world, in order to realize he’d never be happy in New Rome._

_She was happy for him._

_Well, sort of._

_She wanted him to be happy—she cared about him. It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt that his happiness apparently hinged on abandoning her._

_There were only a few days left of the Roman demigods sticking around Camp Half-Blood. They were getting ready to move out, make the long drive back to California. Back home, for Reyna. Despite everything, Camp Jupiter was still home to her._

_She found Jason one evening, alone by the pine tree up on Half-Blood Hill. She knew a little about the tree—it had something to do with Jason’s sister. Why she thought she might find him there._

_“Hey,” she greeted, a little hesitantly._

_He looked up, a little surprised. It took just a breath too long for him to greet her with a friendly smile. It didn’t used to take him an extra moment to smile at her._

_“Reyna,” he said._

_“Can I sit?” she asked._

_“Oh—yeah, of course.” He shifted a little as though to give he space to sit next to him. She didn’t point out that there was plenty of room. She just settled into the grass next to him._

_“Do you remember,” she started slowly, “hanging out in the Garden of Bacchus on free days?”_

_Jason looked out at the horizon. “I’d say of course I do, but I guess it’s not really a given for me, is it?”_

_“Still don’t have all your memories back?”_

_He shook his head slightly. “I have most of them, I think. They’re still kind of cloudy. But I do remember the Garden of Bacchus. I remember talking you into sneaking up there after dark a few times.”_

_Reyna managed a smile. “Every time there was a meteor shower. Yeah.”_

_One of those nights, they kissed under the stars. It was Reyna’s first kiss. Jason’s, too. She wondered if he remembered that, or if it was too cloudy._

_They’d never dated. Honestly, Reyna wasn’t even sure they’d ever actually had real romantic feelings for each other. She was pretty sure they were just testing the waters, and that they’d both have ultimately realized they were better off friends. But they never got the chance to have that realization, so the doubt would always linger._

_It was supposed to be easier than this—having an awkward first kiss with a friend, laughing about it as you grew up together, talking about how safe it was to have that perfect memory. Laughing about how naïve you both were, and how glad you were to have a friendship strong enough that you’d mistaken it for romantic feelings._

_Reyna hated that it had gotten so complicated. It should’ve been so simple._

_“It wasn’t all bad,” Jason said after a few quiet moments. “I have plenty of good memories of Camp Jupiter. It’s not an easy choice. I need you to know that.”_

_“I appreciate it,” Reyna said, a little stiffly. It was a small comfort to know that it wasn’t an easy decision, but the problem was that it certainly looked like it had been easy from the outside. He had unclouded memories here, a beautiful girlfriend, a place full of people that didn’t know him as the Golden Boy._

_Of course he’d want to stay. Reyna hadn’t been surprised at all._

_“Seriously,” Jason said. “There are a lot of things I’ll miss.”_

_“Things you can remember?” Reyna said, shooting him a wry smile. It maybe wasn’t the kindest thing to say, but he laughed._

_“The brownies, for one thing. I’d never forget those.”_

_Reyna rolled her eyes._

_“The river, too. Dakota and Gwen. Temple Hill. The hot chocolate, the lares, even Terminus.” He nudged her arm. “And you. I’ll miss you, Reyna.”_

_“Maybe you could visit,” she said lightly. She couldn’t quite bring herself to say she’d miss him, too. The Reyna from before all of this could’ve easily said “I’ll miss you” to the Jason that hadn’t forgotten her. But they weren’t those kids anymore._

_Jason smiled. “I’d like that.”_

\---

After they’d eaten, Jason was sort of awkwardly hanging around Percy’s apartment. Everyone else was still gone—Annabeth had left, too, having managed to get ahold of Thalia.

Jason realized, a little bit, that he hadn’t even given a second thought to his job, his coworkers, his _life._ He’d just called in sick for the next day and put it out of his mind. If nothing else, it was just more evidence that whatever existence he’d had until now, it was barely real enough to register.

But he still couldn’t figure out how he was supposed to get his real life back. He was hoping just being here, being around these people, would trigger some epiphanies. No such luck. Everything was cloudy and strange and painful.

He really needed to do something.

“I think—” he started. “I think maybe I’ll go back to Temple Hill. Just to walk around a little.”

Percy gave him an apprehensive glance. “You want me to come?”

Jason shook his head. “Maybe something will come to me when I’m alone.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Percy let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, but _don’t_ tell anyone. Especially don’t tell Leo.”

“Noted. I will not rat you out for letting me, a grown man, walk around some temples,” Jason said dryly.

Percy laughed a little. “I’m serious. Leo was being real about handcuffing you two together.”

Jason raised his hands in surrender. “Yeah, okay, I get it. I won’t be long.”

“You know the way there and back?” Percy asked.

Jason hesitated. “Maybe that’s part of what I’m hoping to find out,” he said.

Percy furrowed his brow. “Well, if you’re not back in an hour or something, I’ll come find you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Still.” Percy shot him a small, hesitant smile.

Jason smiled back. There was something a little bit nice about the idea that someone would be paying attention like that. It wasn’t exactly a feeling Jason was accustomed to. For years, he wasn’t sure anyone had worried about him.

“Yeah, I got it,” he replied.

He headed out with a short goodbye, at least remembering which direction to go.

It wasn’t quite dark out, but it was getting there. The sun had sunk beyond the hills, the sky splashed with shades of pink and lavender. There was a slight chill in the breeze as Jason walked.

New Rome was quieter than it had been earlier, the shops closed. There were some thinning crowds at various patios at the restaurants lining the street.

Jason tried not to make eye contact with anyone. He wasn’t sure if he’d be recognized, and he _really_ didn’t want to deal with that.

Walking through New Rome to Temple Hill didn’t take very long. Percy and Annabeth’s place was fairly near the outskirts.

Jason took a breath, taking a quick look at Jupiter’s Temple.

Still cloudy. Still painful. Still some strange pull, beckoning him away from the ache of it.

So he kept walking. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he had the distinct impression that whatever had happened to him, it had nothing to do with his father. Whoever had saved him, whoever had altered his mind, they didn’t have anything to do with Jupiter.

Jason wondered if that would hurt, if he had his memories. If it would be a source of pain that his father had no hand in protecting him.

Maybe. But he got the impression that was something he’d grown used to.

As he climbed the hill, he looked up at the changing colors of the cloudless sky.

He wanted to remember. It felt simple to him.

Not far from the bottom of the hill, Jason slowed to a stop in front of a white marble temple. There was a harp above the entrance, with painted gold details lining the threshold. It was larger than Neptune’s shed-sized temple, though probably still barely half the size of Jupiter’s. Jason took a careful step towards it.

It seemed to glow with this gentle warmth.

Apollo’s temple.

“I’m not sure I agree with the way they organized this,” a voice said from behind him. “I mean, honestly, it’s a little demeaning.”

Jason froze. He knew that voice.

When he turned, he felt his pulse racing in his wrists.

The world sort of… stuttered. Jason felt off balance.

A tall woman in a long white gown stood beside him. He hadn’t heard her approach. She had gentle, silver eyes, hair braided down her back.

He _recognized_ her. From distant, soft-edged memories. Memories that felt like dreams.

“Mom?” he said, small and breakable.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, how _interesting._ I was wondering how I would fit in to it all. Of course, I’m hardly surprised that Beryl Grace was lost in the process.”

The name _Beryl Grace_ struck a chord in Jason’s mind, but in a way he didn’t like. It felt like a tugging headache, pressing against his temples. He wanted to brush the name away.

It took conscious effort not to.

“But…” Jason couldn’t quite get words out.

He recognized her. He knew her, from memories of a warm, careful hand, easing pains like scraped knees. It was the association he’d always had with the foggy understanding of family.

She seemed to notice his inability to finish the thought.

“No, I’m not your mother,” she said, her voice kind, her eyes a little regretful.

“Then why—” Jason closed his eyes, taking a breath. “Why do I _remember_ you?”

“Well, dear, your memories shifted so they wouldn’t hurt,” she explained simply. “Truly, I’m flattered your mind decided to remember me this way.”

“I don’t—I’m not sure I understand.”

“Of course—you wouldn’t, would you?” The woman hummed, but she didn’t continue. Instead, she walked closer to the temple, around the side.

Jason noticed that there was a line of simple shrines, much like at Neptune’s temple.

The woman made a noise like a disapproving scoff. “Honestly. Apollo is associated with the sun—I’m associated with the _moon._ They at least could have put my shrine with Diana’s temple.”

“Um—” Jason didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he wanted to ask.

Really, he was a little too busy trying to find his ability to breathe again. Because he still saw his _mother_ there in front of him, regardless of what she said. His memories were _telling_ him that this was his mom. She was supposed to be dead, but then again, so was he, right?

He couldn’t even remember how his mother died, or when. He should’ve realized sooner that didn’t make any sense, but he’d spent years half-dreaming.

“I suppose I can understand,” the woman went on, a little stiffly. “They went by my parentage. It makes sense, I know. It’s the _healing_ thing—so they put me with the Apollo lot.” She shot him a warm glance. “I’m sure you would have corrected them, but alas, they didn’t have your expertise available.”

Jason cleared his throat, trying to get ahold of himself. “I, uh—sorry. Sorry, I don’t mean to… Who are you?”

She smiled like she’d been expecting the question. She bowed her head slightly to him. “Achelois, my dear. At your service.”

“I don’t…”

“No, no, of course you don’t.” She beckoned. “Please, Jason Grace. Come here.”

He complied, walking over to stand beside her in front of the shrines.

“I don’t mind the simplicity of them—really, I don’t,” Achelois started to explain. “And it’s perfectly reasonable to place my shrine beside my mother’s. See, here, Epione—goddess of the soothing of pain. I don’t _mind_ it; it’s just being at _Apollo’s_ temple that—”

She cut off with a soft laugh, and Jason stared. The sound of windchimes floated around them.

“I am so sorry, dear, I don’t mean to make this about me. I know you’re hardly in a position to be rectifying the mistakes they made trying to finish your project.” Achelois smiled at him.

He couldn’t stop seeing the mother in his warm, easy memories.

“So Leucothea stopped me from drowning, and you—” he murmured, half to himself.

“Right, of course! You must be confused.” She straightened up a little, turning towards him more fully. She was tall enough that he almost felt like a kid in front of her. “Yes, I healed you. Though I did more than that.”

“You… took my memories?” Jason said slowly.

Achelois frowned a little. “Well, I wouldn’t _quite_ put it like that. My dear, I did what I do best.”

“Which is?” Jason prompted.

“My name means _she who washes away pain,”_ the goddess explained, in a sweet, soothing voice. “So that’s precisely what I did. I washed away the pain that you carried.”

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. He just remembered all those times he felt that gentle current, coaxing him away from thoughts that hurt, from memories that were difficult to hold. He recognized the feeling—it was the same feeling that Achelois’s honey-sweet voice brought.

“So why…” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Why don’t I remember _anything?”_

Achelois frowned a little. “Well, that seems an exaggeration. You remember some things. You remember _better_ things. Like you remember me in place of your mother. An easier thing to swallow all around, I believe.”

“But that—that’s not _real.”_

“Sure it is,” she said. “It’s real enough.”

He didn’t know how to explain that it _wasn’t._

“But— _nothing?_ I don’t remember _anything_ from my actual life?” Jason said. The implications were starting to fall into place.

Achelois took a short breath. “Yes, I will admit, that was a _tad_ unexpected. I believe—well, that my healing comfort had a bit of a domino effect. Pain was threaded into your life too tightly. Pulling it away unraveled quite a lot, in the end.”

Jason felt like he needed to sit down. He didn’t move. He just tried to keep his hands from shaking.

“Can you fix it?” he asked.

She frowned, looking bewildered, just at the edge of offended. “ _Fix_ it? I gave you the gift of a painless life, and you want me to _fix_ it?”

He swallowed. “I just… I want to remember.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Mortals. I swear, baffling creatures.”

“Please,” he tried. 

Achelois met his gaze. Her silver eyes were glowing against the dying light of the day. She looked a little disappointed as she folded her hands in front of her.

“If you want your pain back, that’s not something I can offer,” she said. “You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

“Oh.” The stars were starting to appear in the sky. Jason glanced up for a moment, calming himself by picking out constellations. “Can you tell me where to look?”

“Mm. I’m sorry, Jason Grace.” She sighed, following his gaze towards the sky. “All I can tell you is that pain, though it can be lost, is never truly gone.”

“So I can get my memories back.”

“Indeed. Though that is far from my area of expertise.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I hope you know we did our best to keep you safe.”

Jason nodded. It was getting hard to look directly at her. She was looking less human in the light of the moon and stars—more like a goddess. And Jason could still see the false memories of his mother in her face.

“Oh—I can offer you one thing.” She pressed a coin into his palm.

He looked down at it in confusion. “Uh—”

“Lost things can be found, Jason Grace,” Achelois told him, her voice sounding a little like an echo.

When he looked back up, she was gone. But he could still feel the weight of her hand against his shoulder.

He closed his hand around the coin, his palm warming it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really think that Nyssa is an underrated character and I want to remind people of her.   
> Anyway, the next chapter might take a little longer. We'll see.   
> As always, comments are very appreciated, and you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr, if you like!


	7. who you become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How would you know? You don’t remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a little longer! Life sure is happening.

_“So you’ve finally reached the age,” Carlos said brightly, gesturing widely. He led Jason into the weapons storage room. “Are you ready? Are you excited?”_

_Jason took a tentative step over the threshold into the storage room. He’d been in there before—everyone had. Tidying up weapons storage and polishing the unclaimed swords was a chore that went on rotation. Imperial gold had to be cared for, and all the unclaimed weapons were shared property._

_He was twelve now. Which meant that he finally got to pick his own weapon. After years of borrowing swords like library books, he was finally going to have a weapon that actually belonged to him. He’d had to wait longer than most, but here it was._

_It was a major milestone for the kids at Camp Jupiter._

_Some of the legionnaires got to pick their weapons right away, because of how old they were when they showed up, but Jason had been waiting eight years._

_Honestly, he was just excited to be able to have something that was really his. Too much of his life felt like it belonged to someone else._

_Growing up in Camp Jupiter, as a legionnaire, everything was so controlled. Jason didn’t exactly have anything to compare it to, but he could imagine, from the stories he’d heard, what it must be like to have a life on the outside._

_Most of the time, Jason was grateful for the home he had, the life he led, knowing that it could’ve been so much worse. Other times, each line in his tattoo felt like a solidified brand that told him, in no uncertain terms, that he’d never escape. That he’d never be free, he’d never have his own choices._

_His life was never really his. But he knew that._

_“So what are you thinking?” Carlos asked._

_Jason looked around, seeing the storage room in new light. There was so much there—so much history, so much hurt. These weapons would’ve been in a museum if they’d been found by mortals. It was a little overwhelming, thinking of all the people who had touched and claimed everything there._

_“I’m not sure,” Jason said, his voice small._

_Carlos smiled kindly. Carlos, son of Ceres, was one of the two centurions in the Fifth Cohort. He’d been around almost as long as Jason, and he’d always been kind and welcoming._

_“Take your time,” Carlos replied. “It’s a big decision.”_

_Jason walked slowly along the wall, gazing up at the swords that were displayed._

_“A gladius is always a classic choice,” Carlos said. “Practical.”_

_Jason felt an itch in his hands. He knew that he should make the practical choice. Any simple gladius would do, really. He didn’t have to overcomplicate what should be a straightforward decision. It was probably the most responsible thing to do._

_Jason knew all about responsibility._

_“Can I just—” Jason said, hesitantly reaching for one of the swords._

_“Go ahead,” Carlos encouraged. “It’s what we’re here for.”_

_Carefully, he took one off the wall. He clenched his fist around the handle, exhaling, testing the weight of it. It was fine. It felt like any other borrowed sword he’d used before. It felt as natural as any weapon, as expected. Chances were good that he’d even used this specific sword before in training._

_Practical. Responsible. What was expected of him. Jason knew how to be what everyone expected of him._

_“It works,” he reported, shifting._

_“Sure, but does it feel right?” Carlos asked._

_How was Jason supposed to know that?_

_“Maybe? It’s a sword. It… feels like a sword.”_

_How was he supposed to know what_ right _felt like?_

_“Try another.”_

_Jason took a breath. He hung the sword back up and took the one just to the left of it instead._

_He wasn’t sure what, exactly, was supposed to happen. All he knew was that when legionnaires were twelve, they came here, and when they walked out, they had a weapon that belonged to them. Jason didn’t know if it was supposed to feel different when the sword belonged to you._

_It should, right? It seemed like it should feel different._

_Jason put this sword back too and took a step away from the wall._

_“Maybe a spear is more your speed?” Carlos suggested, gesturing to the next wall._

_Jason followed. He picked up the closest spear, one that was just leaning against the wall, not quite put back properly. Sort of like with the swords, Jason didn’t feel anything. It was a spear—he’d held them before. He knew what to expect._

_After eight years at Camp Jupiter, Jason was pretty sure any weapon would feel comfortable enough in his hands. He was used to them. How could he tell the difference between something that felt right and something that felt familiar?_

_He rolled the spear over in his hand, hoping for an epiphany._

_Something caught his eye in the back of the shed and he put the spear back down._

_There was a small table—_

_Jason remembered this area of the shed, though he hadn’t paid it much attention. The swords and spears always required the most maintenance—they got the most use, after all. The table had items that didn’t quite fit into the other categories._

_“You could try a bow and arrow,” Carlos offered._

_Jason didn’t follow. He made a beeline for the table._

_There were a few oddities neatly placed on the table in careful rows. A comb. A bracelet. A pocket watch. A hairclip._

_And a gold coin._

_Jason reached out, brushing his fingers against the surface of the coin. It was about the size of a half-dollar, with “Ivlivs” etched across it._

_He picked it up delicately, turning it over in his hand._

_“Oh, yeah, that one’s kind of cool,” Carlos said, approaching. “It doesn’t work super well, though. The idea is that you flip it and it becomes a sword or a javelin, depending on how it lands. For most people, it only works about half the time. No one’s sure what the trick is.”_

_Without thinking too much about it, Jason balanced the coin on his finger and flipped it._

_It transformed into a javelin, and Jason caught it in the air._

_“Awesome,” Jason said, eyes wide, his pulse in his ears with a strange kind of excitement._

_“Dude! Nice! No one gets it on the first try!” Carlos’ enthusiasm was contagious. He gestured. “Do it again.”_

_Jason flicked his thumb again, and the javelin shrank back into a coin, landing back into his palm._

_Ivlivs._

_He flipped it again and caught a gladius._

_The sword already felt different than the others—he could feel it tingling up the muscles in his arm, like it was an extension of himself. He shifted his hand against it, feeling how perfectly it fit in his fingers._

_So this was what_ right _felt like._

_“Looks like it was made for you,” Carlos offered._

_“It feels like it, too,” Jason murmured. He flicked it back into a coin and closed his hand around it tightly._

_There was something thrilling about it. The idea of flipping a coin and letting the weapon decide what it wanted to be, the idea of carrying this small, gold thing with him, so it was on hand whenever he needed it. He felt safe with it._

_It wasn’t the responsible, practical choice of a classic gladius. It was different—and it felt like his._

_For once, it really, truly felt like something belonged to him. With no invisible strings._

\---

Jason turned the gold coin over in his hand, running his thumb along the ridge.

It seemed to buzz against his fingers, just a little, like it was alive when he touched it. The weight of it was familiar. It seemed to belong in his hands. Memories of it felt like they were on the tip of Jason’s tongue—just at the edges of his mind, almost in his grasp.

_Ivlivs._

He knew it meant something to him. He knew, too, that it was strange to hold it again. Like something about it was just a little bit off, just wrong enough for no one but him to notice the difference.

_Like it had been destroyed and carefully reconstructed,_ Jason mused to himself.

_Yeah_ , that was it. It felt like it had broken and been repaired—things are never quite the same, but they can feel close to what they once were.

He wondered if it was sort of like that, what these people saw when they looked at him. Maybe a broken thing they’d once known. Maybe they were looking for the cracks, trying to see what had been glued back together, if anything was repaired wrong.

He didn’t know who he used to be. He wouldn’t know the difference.

He idly flipped the coin, catching it in his palm.

_Lost things can be found._

Maybe it was true.

Reporting back to Percy felt a little surreal. Jason hadn’t had too much trouble getting back to the apartment—it was fully dark by the time he left Temple Hill, but he found his way in the streetlights. Maybe there was a part of him that knew this place, that remembered well enough to not get lost.

Or maybe he’d just paid attention when he’d gone there in the first place. Maybe it was that simple.

Jason couldn’t dwell on it. It would just make him crazy, trying to figure it out through the fog.

At least he understood what was wrong with his memories. Anything that felt foggier, more distant—it probably hurt more.

He imagined that Leo had been right, when he said he’d gotten the impression that growing up here hadn’t been easy for Jason.

Jason told Percy everything that Achelois had told him, trying his best to explain the details of it. He was still wrapping his mind around the concept.

“Huh,” Percy said, a crease between his brows. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Well, neither have I,” Jason replied jokingly.

Percy snorted. “Maybe someone else will know something about it.”

Jason leaned back in his chair. “Any word on when they’re getting back?”

“Tomorrow. I think they’ll all be back tomorrow.”

“Fantastic. Waiting.”

Percy smiled a little, a warm glint in his gaze. “You used to be more patient.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Jason replied.

“For now. We’ll figure it out.” Percy sounded so confident that Jason managed to believe him.

“While we’re waiting, though—” Jason started. “What Achelois did. Got any ideas at all about what we can do about it?”

Percy’s good-humored light dulled a little and he glanced away. He furrowed his brow, his jaw tightening like there was something he didn’t want to say.

Jason straightened up. “You do, don’t you?”

“Not one that I like,” Percy muttered.

“Come on.” Jason would be willing to entertain a lot of ideas. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Percy let out a thin sigh. He hesitated for another long moment. “Okay, if we’re talking about… finding _pain,_ I’m… Well, let’s say I’m _familiar_ with a goddess in charge of that sort of thing.”

“That sounds promising,” Jason replied.

Percy ran a hand over his hair. “I wouldn’t say that. Honestly, I think going to her should be a last resort.”

“But it’s an option.”

“One I’d _seriously_ recommend against, dude.”

“Tell me anyway,” Jason said.

Percy hesitated, studying Jason’s face. Jason wasn’t sure what he was trying to figure out.

“Look, there’s a good chance that Nico _will_ kill me for telling you this,” Percy replied. “But Akhlys. Goddess of misery and poison. I’ve met her—I think Nico has, too. Last I checked, though, she’s in Tartarus. And I doubt she’d be all that willing to help us.”

“Well, giving me my _misery_ back could pretty easily be framed as _not_ helping us,” Jason pointed out. The gears in his mind were already turning. This _Akhlys_ sounded sort of like the inverse of Achelois. Maybe that was what he needed.

“That’s true,” Percy said, his tone still reluctant. “But, uh… There’s still the matter of her being in _Tartarus.”_

“Cross that bridge if we need to?” Jason suggested. “Dude, I’m not saying you and me run find her right now. Just that we should… Have that option. That sounds like it could work.”

Percy sighed. “Okay.” He shook his head. “I hope Nico doesn’t freaking kill me for this.”

“Cross _that_ bridge if we need to, too,” Jason said with a slight wry smile.

Percy let out a short laugh. “Hopefully, someone else will have something better.”

_Hopefully._

They didn’t talk much more about Achelois, or the implications of Jason’s memory loss, or whether or not they’d be able to find a way to get everything back. Percy filled Jason in on a little bit more about the people he’d yet to meet, Jason asked a little bit more about their time with the prophecy. Mostly, it seemed like Percy was trying to keep things light. Jason was sort of relieved.

He could deal with the harsher truths of things later. He’d spent so long with the soft edged life Achelois had given him—he was starting to understand how tiring reality could be.

\---

_Oh._

_Another dream._

_Jason hoped for a memory again, something he could hold onto. Something real._

_But as he tried to wrap his mind around his surroundings, he was pretty sure that wasn’t what was happening. Or… it wasn’t_ exactly _what was happening._

_He wasn’t sure where he was. He didn’t seem to be anywhere. There was colorless nothing all around him—not quite a void, not quite darkness, just a vast, empty place. He couldn’t find a horizon to guide him on the dimensions of it._

_He was just sort of… elsewhere._

_He took a slow step forward, wondering if trying to move would get him anywhere different, or if he would just keep walking into the nothing._

_A younger Jason, maybe thirteen, was standing opposite another boy, wearing a confident smirk. He deliberately flicked a gold coin along his knuckles._

_“Well, come on,” the other boy called out, grinning back. He was holding a gold sword out in front of him. “Let’s see what you can do with that fancy new weapon.”_

_“You jealous, Dakota?” Jason called back._

_The other boy snorted. “As if. I’ll get to choose my own soon enough, and then you won’t stand a chance.”_

_“Sure, of course,” Jason said with a nod. “First time for everything, right?”_

_“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you, Grace,” Dakota replied with a laugh._

_“Trying something new. Come on, let’s go.” Jason flipped his gold coin up in the air—it seemed to slow down before glowing, and growing into a golden gladius. Jason caught it easily and swung it towards Dakota._

_And the image flickered out._

_The next vision appeared._

_Jason, a little bit older, sitting cross-legged on a patch of grass, staring up at the night sky. He was holding the gold coin, rubbing his thumb against it like he was trying to comfort himself. He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eyes._

_“Father?” he murmured._

_Nothing happened, though Jason wasn’t expecting anything to. He suspected that this younger version of him hadn’t been expecting a response either._

_He opened his eyes again, looking back at the stars._

_“I don’t really know if you’re listening,” he said. He let out a soft scoff. “Ever.”_

_Jason took a step closer to his younger self. The image flickered in front of him, as the vision of himself clutched harder onto the coin, holding it to his chest._

_The younger Jason let out a long weary sigh, far too tired and heavy for someone so young. Far too full of the weight of the world._

_“But maybe you were—maybe you heard me before, when—” His voice had started shaking. “—when Gwen got hurt in the War Game today. I guess I wanted to thank you? In case you helped out there. I know… I know it could’ve been much worse.”_

_The stars didn’t answer. Jason’s eyes were shiny in the dim light—not quite tears yet, just the threat of them._

_“I should’ve been paying more attention, it’s my fault, I—” he went on, his voice getting smaller. He started shrinking, too, his shoulders curling downwards. “Gwen said it was okay, but it wasn’t. I was distracted, and I was supposed to have her back, and I_ didn’t, _and she got hurt because of me. I can’t afford to make mistakes like that—Dad, it could’ve been so much worse. How am I supposed to make sure nothing like that happens again?”_

_Jason felt a little frozen, watching this. He knew it was him—he knew that this memory belonged to him, that it was his. He wasn’t sure he wanted it. He couldn’t look away._

_The Jason in the memory sighed heavily. “I can’t—I can’t make mistakes. It’s not an option, I know that. Dad, I’m… scared.”_

_He said the last word in a whisper, like it was hard to get out._

_With that, the memory faded out, the emptiness returning, until the next one started._

_In the new image, a teenage Jason was standing in a grand marble hallway, dressed in official-looking robes. He was taking deep, steady breaths, holding his gold coin close to his heart. He looked a little fidgety, his free hand twitching at his side. His eyes were closed tightly._

_“It’s fine, it’s nothing,” he murmured to himself. “It’ll be fine. Just get through it.”_

_A teenage Nico came into view, wearing similar, darker robes, walking down the hallway and slowing to a stop when he saw Jason. He stood there for a few moments, his head tilted slightly as he stared at Jason._

_Jason didn’t seem to notice._

_Nico sighed. “Praetor Grace,” he greeted._

_Jason started at the noise, opening his eyes and straightening up quickly. “Ambassador di Angelo,” he greeted back, slightly breathlessly._

_“The Senate meeting is about to start,” Nico replied. His tone was distantly professional._

_“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Jason took a breath. He rubbed a thumb against his coin and brushed his other hand down the front of his robes. With some visible effort, he offered a small smile. “I’ll see you in there.”_

_Nico didn’t move. He narrowed his eyes a little, studying Jason’s face. Their eyes locked, strained tension between them. Jason’s professional smile wavered a little._

_Nico sighed again. “You alright?”_

_Jason cleared his throat. “Of course. Just taking a moment before…”_

_“Sure,” Nico replied, raising an eyebrow slightly._

_Jason seemed to hesitate, his mask cracking. He took a breath, running a hand over his hair. “I haven’t been praetor very long,” he admitted quietly. “I wasn’t exactly prepared to deal with—”_

_He cut off, sighing._

_Nico’s mouth twisted up into a dry smile. “Octavian?” he offered._

_Jason smiled back stiffly. “He used to be… easier to manage,” he said, keeping his voice low._

_Nico snorted. “He’s an insufferable moron,” he muttered, glancing down the hall toward the Senate room._

_Jason let out a small laugh. “Yeah. That.” He cleared his throat. “But he’s our augur, and people listen to him.”_

_“Not as much as they listen to you,” Nico said. His tone was soft, almost earnest._

_Jason looked at him, some surprise in his gaze._

_Nico coughed, shifting away. “I just mean—you’re a good praetor. They respect you.”_

_Jason’s shoulders sagged a little and he looked down the hall. “Or at least they respect my father,” he muttered._

_Nico raised an eyebrow and Jason seemed to realize what he’d said._

_He looked back at Nico, eyes wider. “I didn’t—um. I’m sorry.”_

_Nico just rolled his eyes. “Come on, Golden Boy,” he said, gesturing for them to walk together. “You’re doing fine.”_

_Watching the scene, Jason was desperate to know more about who they’d been to each other before. He wanted to see more of it, remember more of it. He tried to take a step forward, but the image seemed just as far away, like it was moving with him._

_Teenage Jason hesitated for a moment as Nico turned to walk away, studying Nico with softened eyes._

_Before he took a step to follow, he absently flicked the gold coin up. In that way that dream mechanics work, the coin appeared in the air in front of present-day Jason, and he caught it easily as it fell, closing his palm around it._

_The dream changed, and in the next vision, Jason was a part of it instead of observing it through the fog. Like he was experiencing the memory, in a disconnected way._

_He was standing in an empty cabin, staring at the bust of a severe-looking man._

_His father, or so it seemed. Zeus. There was something just a little bit wrong with that, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. There was so much he didn’t know or understand, and yet so much that he felt was true._

_He wished he remembered his life, who he was, where he came from. Were there people looking for him, like the people here were looking for Percy?_

_He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. But what he felt to be true was that he didn’t have an Annabeth, trying anything and everything to bring him home._

_Whatever home was._

_He hated feeling like a part of him had been carved out and taken away._

_He placed the gold coin on the table in front of him, touching his fingertips to the engraving._

_Ivlivs. Like the coin had a name._

_At least he had something left, from his life before. Something beyond the vague sense that there were things he knew, something beyond the tattoo branding his arm, something beyond his name. He had this one, small thing that belonged to him._

_Maybe it could tell him who he was._

\---

Jason woke up feeling off-kilter and uncertain.

The dreams had been strange, but that last one pierced him. He wanted to reach out and talk to that fifteen-year-old version of himself, that kid who was feeling the exact things he was feeling now. Disconnected, powerless, lost.

He winced a little as he sat up. He’d crashed on Percy and Annabeth’s living room couch and he felt stiffness in his shoulders from the way he’d been twisted on it. Two nights away from his apartment, and he felt so strange.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. Jason was glad, at least, that he had some glimpses. Those memories were mostly just snapshots of a life he was outside of, rather than memories that really felt like a part of him, but they weren’t nothing.

It was more than he’d had before, and that was _something._

All in all, it felt like a miniscule step forward, though. He had more questions, but he wasn’t sure he even had the language necessary to really express them. 

Even if he had the language, he didn’t know if he’d really be able to ask.

“Great, you’re up!” Percy called out.

“Barely,” Jason replied, rubbing at his eyes.

“Well, I’ve got some spare clothes and towels for you. Get ready and then we can go grab coffee and breakfast, sound good?”

It sounded… fine.

It sounded as good as anything else, in this soft morning sun that felt both too far away and too bright. The crisp edges of reality were going to take some getting used to.

Jason cleaned himself up, feeling strange in the borrowed clothes. He took a moment after getting dressed to look in the mirror, his gaze catching on the scar on his lip.

He remembered…

Something. He remembered something. But it was impossible to hold onto.

He knew what he’d told Nico, when Nico had first asked. That he’d heard the story of how he’d gotten that small childhood scar. But those watered-down, sugar-coated memories that Achelois had left him with…

He took a breath. It didn’t matter. Not right then, not at that moment. He went back to the living room where Percy was waiting.

As Percy led Jason towards a nearby restaurant, he rambled a little. Jason just sort of let him talk, only half listening. He didn’t really have the presence of mind for… most of this situation.

“—but they have the _best_ pancakes in New Rome, so I figured we’d go there,” Percy was saying. “Well, I mean, if you still like pancakes? I guess I just _remember_ you liking pancakes from when we were on the _Argo II,_ but—”

“Pancakes sound fine,” Jason replied faintly.

“Cool, great,” Percy said. “We could also grab brownies from the bakery on the way back—those were your favorite, I hear.”

“Sure.”

New Rome had woken up, with people milling about, talking and laughing in the morning sunlight. Jason tried to find something familiar about it, but he couldn’t. Not quite. He shoved a hand in his pocket, his fingertips catching the edge of the gold coin.

Breakfast was nice enough, quiet and easy conversation. Percy seemed content to take up most of the talking. Jason thought he saw a waitress’s eyes widen with recognition when she saw him, but he wasn’t sure. She didn’t say anything, and he just ducked his head away, hoping to avoid any awkwardness.

On the way back, Percy did make them stop at a bakery to get some brownies. _For later,_ he’d insisted.

When they got back to the apartment, Nico and Frank were already there, along with a serious-looking woman with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Jason’s steps into the living room faltered and he stilled near the door.

“Reyna,” Percy greeted. “It’s good to see you.”

Reyna smiled politely. “It’s good to see you, too, Jackson.”

Her voice had a crisp, controlled calm in it. It sounded familiar, but Jason couldn’t say why or how.

She walked over and gave Percy a quick hug before stopping in front of Jason. Her eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion, but her lips were pressed in a stiff line.

She offered a hand. “I’m Reyna,” she said softly.

By force of habit, Jason took her hand and introduced himself, too. “I’m Jason,” he said. As the words left his mouth, he realized that she already knew that.

The corner of her mouth twitched up in a slightly suppressed smile.

“You’re introducing yourself?” Nico said, directing the question to Reyna in a flat tone and raising an eyebrow.

She cast a glance back at him. “Might as well, it’s the courteous thing to do,” she replied.

Nico rolled his eyes, but Reyna just shot him a fond smile.

Reyna turned back towards him steadily. “We knew each other here,” she explained, like it was normal to have to say this. “We went to Camp Jupiter together. Do you remember any of that?”

“Um.” Jason felt like he was just consistently disappointing all these people with his lack of certainty. At least he had something to hold onto _here._ “Not really—but I have—”

He pulled the golden coin out of his pocket, offering it to her.

Reyna’s eyes widened. “You have Julius back?” she said softly, staring down at it.

“Julius?” Jason repeated.

“The sword’s name— _gods,_ Jason, this broke _years_ ago,” she replied, taking it from his palm.

“I got it back yesterday,” he said, sort of absently. He didn’t have the memory of losing it.

With the way Reyna was reverently turning it over, studying it from every angle, he figured she must’ve known, too, how important it had been to him once.

\---

_Saying bye to Reyna was hard._

_Jason didn’t remember everything—still, after all this time, the memories that Juno had stolen from him were cloudy at best and lost at worst. But he remembered more than he had when he’d first come back to Camp Jupiter. He remembered his friendship with Reyna._

_He’d cared about her. They’d been best friends. They were praetors together—they were going to be good ones. Jason had ideas about how to make Camp Jupiter better, and Reyna was one of the only people that really listened to him. There had been so many possibilities for them._

_Jason had to stop himself, over and over again, from wondering how things might’ve been different if he hadn’t been thrown into a friendship with Leo, a relationship with Piper, thrown into Camp Half-Blood. It would make him crazy, thinking about all the what-ifs from Camp Jupiter._

_In any case, he’d barely seen Reyna. He’d forgotten to miss her._

_It felt sort of horrible, that she’d basically been the most important person in his life, and Juno had managed to all but erase her. Even though it wasn’t his fault, and he knew that, how were they supposed to recover from that? How could their friendship ever be anything even close to the way it was?_

_Honestly, Jason really expected Reyna to never forgive him for this. For any of it. For being taken. For forgetting her. And now, finally, for choosing Camp Half-Blood._

_He couldn’t blame her for it, if she did harbor resentment and anger. He’d understand, if she couldn’t forgive him._

_And now she was heading home, and he didn’t know when they’d see each other again. All he knew was their friendship was forever altered. He’d lost something he could never get back, and it felt even worse that he didn’t even really know what he’d lost._

_She’d been so important to him, and those memories were hard to hold onto._

_He found her getting ready to leave, focused and serious._

_He could tell she felt him approach, but she didn’t look up._

_“So,” he started. He had no idea what to say._

_“Yes,” Reyna replied stiffly._

_“You excited to head back?” he asked conversationally, and then internally winced at himself. There was a pretty solid argument for why he should be heading back, too._

_“I’ll be happy to put the war behind me,” Reyna replied smoothly._

_“Right. Of course.”_

_He wanted this to not be awkward. He remembered that they used to be so comfortable together. There was a time when she was the only person he could really talk to._

_The memories were cloudy. Dreamlike. But they were there somewhere._

_There’s so much the two of them could’ve been together if they’d been given the chance. But they’d never know now._

_And maybe it didn’t matter anyway. Jason couldn’t change anything that had happened, and so little of it had been even remotely his choice. It wasn’t like he’d sought to abandon Camp Jupiter and Reyna. He’d been taken, his life and memories erased, his whole world twisted and turned and made unrecognizable._

_There was no use wondering what could’ve been. It was too late now. And Jason had made his choice—the only one he’d actually gotten to make himself, to stay here._

_All Jason could do was hope that Reyna didn’t hold any of it against him. He didn’t remember if she was the type to hold that kind of grudge._

_Maybe she’d forgive him. Maybe. He couldn’t ask her to._

_Reyna looked off into the distance, back towards the cabins. She frowned a little—an expression Jason recognized, from the ghosts of memories, how she looked when she was worried but trying her best to hide it._

_“Keep an eye on Nico for me, will you?” she said softly. “I was really hoping he’d stick around Camp Jupiter as Ambassador to Pluto, but he turned down the request.”_

_Jason was a little taken aback by that. Of all the things she didn’t have to ask him to do._

_He worried about Nico, too._

_“He told me he was leaving Camp Half-Blood after everything was over,” Jason replied. He followed Reyna’s gaze, looking absently towards the cabins._

_“I worry about him being alone,” Reyna confided, her voice quiet._

_“Me too,” Jason admitted back._

_“Didn’t know you two were friends,” she said._

_Jason half-smiled at that. “Trying to be,” he replied. “I get the impression he’s trying to get rid of me sometimes, but…”_

_Reyna snorted. “You’re both so stubborn,” she said._

_“I wish he trusted me more,” Jason said, a little bit to himself._

_It took him a moment to realize that Reyna was staring at him._

_He adjusted his glasses self-consciously. “What?”_

_“What happened between the two of you?” Reyna asked curiously. “I didn’t think he was on the ship for all that long.”_

_Jason froze. There was no easy answer to that, and the shortest one was something he could never tell anyone._

_He took a moment to look back over at the cabins, imagining Nico in there somewhere, with Hazel. Imagining his tentative crooked smile, the soft look in his eye that was always reserved for his sister. The way he leaned into her with casual affection, like his aversion to touch had more to do with who he decided to allow familiarity with._

_Jason felt his cheeks heating up as he pictured it—and as he thought about how much he wanted to be allowed familiarity with Nico. How much he wanted Nico to let him in._

_He cleared his throat, turning back to Reyna. He gestured vaguely. “You’ve met him,” he said, as an explanation._

_Reyna’s mouth curved into a slightly amused smile. “You want to protect him,” she said._

_Jason smiled, a little sheepishly. “You’ve met me, too.”_

_“I don’t think he needs anyone’s protection, Grace,” Reyna said. “But I get it.”_

_Jason looked towards the cabins again. “He’s been through a lot. Even if he doesn’t need it…”_

_“Yeah. I know.”_

_It felt a little easier, to not talk about them. It was never going to be the same, with Reyna. But Jason figured that as long as they could talk at all, there was something salvageable between them. That would have to be enough._

\---

It wasn’t long afterwards that Annabeth came back, followed closely by a teenage girl with black hair and electrically blue eyes.

When she saw Jason, she froze, her eyes widening.

“Oh my gods,” she murmured. “Oh my gods, it’s true, you’re here, it’s really you.”

Before Jason could react, she rushed forward and enveloped him in a slightly crushing hug. Tentatively, he hugged her back. Trying not to think about the fact that he didn’t actually know who she was.

_Thalia,_ his mind supplied after a few long, tense moments, if only from the memory of who Annabeth was going to go get.

“I thought I had an _older_ sister,” Jason blurted out without thinking.

Thalia laughed into his shoulder. Luckily like it was actually funny, rather than in that strained way that meant it hurt.

She pulled back, smiling so brightly that it reached her eyes. _Overjoyed_ was the only word Jason could think of for that expression. It made him feel warmer right away. 

“I _am_ older,” she said. “That might take just a little explaining.”

She dragged him over to the couch and they settled down together. Jason spared a glance towards everyone else, but they seemed preoccupied with their own muted conversations.

She launched into some animated summary of their past, their relationship, how they were separated and reunited, how she’d thought he was dead twice now, how she had stopped aging when she joined the Hunters of Artemis.

That last one cleared up why she looked fifteen, at least.

It was nice to listen to her talk. It felt, miraculously, lacking in baggage. Jason was pretty relieved that there was at least one person it _actually_ felt uncomplicated with.

_His sister._ He _had_ a sister.

She told him the story of the scar on his lip, too, and it felt like it overwrote that false memory he’d had before.

After Annabeth told them that Leo and Hazel would be back soon with Piper, she and Thalia and Frank broke off a bit to talk to each other in quiet voices. Organizing what the plan was, Jason assumed. He half-thought he should go over there and help, but he hung back.

It was weird, since the problem was _him,_ and the only lead he had was a last-resort type plan.

So he figured he’d just catch his breath before he had to talk to more people.

The past few days had been the most he’d really talked to people in, well, about eight years.

He caught a glimpse of Nico pulling Percy and Reyna to the side to talk to them in a hushed tone. Jason couldn’t hear what was happening. Percy frowned but nodded and Reyna gave Nico a hard look.

Jason almost took a step towards them, but before he could make a move Nico had slipped out of the apartment, moving quickly and quietly like he was trying to disappear.

“Wait, where’s he going?” Jason asked, his voice sounding a little too loud in the quiet of the apartment.

Reyna just sort of gestured towards where Nico had left.

Before he could think better of it, Jason rushed out to follow.

He caught Nico at the bottom of the stairs.

“Nico?” Jason said, with a spike of anxiety. “Where are you going?”

Nico turned back to him. For a split second, his eyes looked pained. Maybe even desperate. But before Jason could process it, Nico’s expression had shifted into a calculated coolness. The corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“Well, I’ve got classes, Grace,” Nico said. His tone was a little amused. “I’m still hoping to finish out my semester.”

“You’re… not staying?” Jason’s throat tightened.

Nico raised an eyebrow. “Look around. I’m sure you’ve got enough people helping you out here.”

It’s not that he didn’t have a point. With the additions of Reyna and Thalia, and the promise of Leo, Hazel, and Piper back any minute, the room was pretty full. They’d probably be able to figure out how to get Jason his memories back soon enough. Especially with the way he was starting to get flashes. Or at least, they’d have enough people to get started.

But… That wasn’t really what was getting to Jason here. He wanted _Nico_ there, specifically.

“Are you coming back?” Jason asked.

“Well, it’s not like my classes are twenty-four seven, if that’s what you’re asking,” Nico replied.

“You know what I mean,” Jason said.

“Do I?” Nico’s aloof tone was starting to grate at Jason. Why was he just acting like he didn’t _care,_ like this didn’t matter to him?

Jason took a breath. He remembered what Percy had said, about what Leo and Nico went through.

_If Nico’s cold…_

Well. Jason supposed that this was what that looked like, then.

But he also remembered Nico telling him that they were something less than friends by the time he died. So Jason wasn’t sure _what_ to think.

All he knew was that he didn’t want Nico to go.

“I just…” Jason sighed. “Come back?”

“Sure thing, Grace,” Nico replied easily.

It was impossible to deny, now, that Jason _definitely_ had feelings for Nico. Even though he couldn’t remember how and when, exactly, they’d gotten there. The feelings were there, and they were deep in that aching, painful way, that way where you have no doubt that they’re permanent.

Jason wondered if he’d ever told Nico how he felt, back then. He _really_ wished he could remember that. Maybe that was what was wrong here—maybe Jason, when they were teenagers together, had told Nico about his feelings. And maybe Nico had rejected him, and it had caused the rift in their relationship.

There was a jolt in his chest at that thought.

Really, that would explain a lot of… this. Nico’s weird inconsistent behavior. Maybe he _had_ cared about Jason as a friend, but he hadn’t wanted to give Jason the wrong idea. Maybe Jason’s feelings were why they ended up as something less than friends. Maybe Nico had just felt guilty about the way they’d left off, and _that_ was why he’d gone through… whatever he’d gone through to get Jason back.

The pieces were starting to make sense, and Jason’s stomach twisted. Of course, if that _was_ what had happened between them, it would make sense that no one else would know about it. It wasn’t necessarily the kind of thing you’d want to talk about.

So it was entirely possible that Nico knew, and was dreading the idea of repeating whatever awkward interaction they’d had.

Jason withdrew a little, keeping himself in check. He wasn’t about to make his feelings Nico’s problem. Especially if he’d done that before.

“It’s just that I feel more comfortable with you here,” he tried to explain. Honestly. “I mean, you’re the one who found me.”

There was a flash of—

Something.

Some crack in Nico’s façade.

“Right,” he replied. _Coldly._

“I just mean—” Jason started.

“I get it,” Nico said, his tone a little sharp.

“Do you?” Jason asked carefully. Maybe he was hoping to get some indication of what had happened between them before—if he could just get Nico to tell him _anything_ about why they hadn’t been talking much back then—

Nico narrowed his eyes. “I have to get to class.”

“We _weren’t_ less than friends,” Jason blurted out, the frustration getting the better of him.

Nico looked surprised for just a moment—his eyes widening a little, his lips parting, trembling just barely. Jason caught the genuine emotion. He was struck. Upset. Angry, maybe, and so _fucking_ sad. Jason didn’t know what to do with that.

But Nico just covered it up and twisted his mouth into a wry smile. “How would you know? You don’t remember.”

He said it like he was trying to make it sharp, but it landed with some tired, bitter sadness.

So Nico _did_ want him to remember, Jason realized distantly.

“I just know,” Jason replied softly. “I can tell.”

Nico sighed. “I don’t know what you want from me, Jason.”

“Don’t you, though?” Jason asked.

Nico hesitated. But only for a moment.

“I don’t want to be late,” he said. And he turned to leave. 

Jason was stuck watching him go, until he sunk into some shadows. He lingered outside for an extra few moments, some vague hope that maybe Nico would just change his mind and come back.

\---

_If anyone asked, Jason wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the exact moment he knew he had feelings for Nico. He didn’t think about it much; he was just sort of aware of a small, hopeless crush. For the most part, at first, he didn’t think it meant much._

_He would however, easily, be able to pinpoint the exact moment he knew that he’d never be able to tell Nico about his feelings._

_It was the day Nico told him that he was staying at Camp Half-Blood._

_Nico had been through so much—too much. Jason didn’t know the half of it, and what he did know was already a heartbreaking kind of weight._

_Jason had been sort of all-nerves, going to knock on Nico’s door. The war had just barely ended—Leo was dead, they were all in a strange sort of limbo, the Romans were getting ready to head back to the Bay Area._

_And Jason remembered that Nico had told him that after all this was over, he was going to leave and never come back. He had fulfilled the promises he’d made, and he was done. There was nothing keeping him there._

_Jason wanted to respect that, but the idea of never seeing Nico again was eating at him._

_Nico looked a little better than he had, standing out in front of the Hades cabin. His eyes were still sort of sunken, his arms still pulled defensively across his chest. But he didn’t look quite as skeletal, quite as drained. There was almost some color back in his face. Almost some light back in his eyes._

_And honestly? Maybe it was a little selfish, but Jason wanted to be able to see him get better. He wanted to be there to see it when Nico could smile again without it looking pained or forced. Maybe he even wanted to be a reason for Nico to smile._

_He wanted Nico to stay. Maybe in that exact moment, he wouldn’t quite have been able to explain exactly how much his chest was aching with it. But he just…_

_He didn’t want to lose Nico. He didn’t want…_

_“Look, Nico—” Jason started. “The reason I wanted to talk to you… I know what you said back at Auster’s palace. I know you already turned down a place at Camp Jupiter. I—I probably can’t change your mind about leaving Camp Half-Blood, but I have to—”_

_“I’m staying.”_

_Jason felt his heartbeat rattling his ribcage. He stared into Nico’s eyes, the cautious hope at his fingertips like sparks._

_“What?” he said, needing to hear it again._

_“At Camp Half-Blood. The Hades cabin needs a head counselor. Have you seen the decor?” Nico’s lips twitched up in a wry smile as he gestured back at his dark, imposing cabin. “It’s disgusting. I’ll have to renovate. And someone needs to do the burial rites properly, since demigods insist on dying heroically.”_

_Jason’s heart felt lighter right away._

_“That’s—that’s fantastic! Dude!” He was so excited he started to move forward to hug Nico before remembering—that familiarity was earned. He pulled back, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Right. No touching. Sorry.”_

_Nico looked at him for a moment. If Jason didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nico’s ever-guarded expression had softened._

_“I suppose we can make an exception,” Nico said._

_Jason didn’t hesitate. If he’d thought his heart felt lighter before, now it was floating. He threw his arms around Nico, pulling him close, feeling his soft hair against his cheek. Slowly, Nico lifted his arms to hug back and Jason squeezed tighter._

_He’d known, sort of distantly, that his feelings about Nico weren’t wholly platonic. He’d known for a while, in the edges of his awareness. It hadn’t mattered much—Jason did love Piper, after all, and Nico liked Percy. And Jason had been so worried about losing Nico, he hadn’t stopped to notice what had happened to those feelings while he hadn’t been paying attention._

_As he felt Nico pressed against his chest, it occurred to him what had happened—_

_They’d gotten deeper, more permanent, wedging themselves in the spaces between his ribs. He wanted Nico—liked him so much that he was breathless for a moment. He liked him so much it hurt. He hadn’t noticed—how had he not noticed?_

_With Nico this close, Jason found himself picturing—tangling his hands in Nico’s hair, pressing his lips to Nico’s—_

_Oh, shit._

_Fuck._

_What was he supposed to do with_ that?

_Jason pulled away, trying to pretend like the full weight of the realization hadn’t just hit him in the chest. He cleared his throat._

_“Oh man, wait till I tell Piper,” Jason said, hoping he sounded normal enough. It was hard to balance what was happening in his mind—the joy, the guilt, the ache. He pushed it aside as much as he could. Focused on what mattered in the immediate moment—which was that Nico had decided to stay. “Hey, since I’m all alone in my cabin too, you and I can share a table in the dining hall. We can team up for capture the flag and sing-along contests and—”_

_“Are you_ trying _to scare me away?” Nico said, an amused tilt in his smile._

_Jason grinned. He was_ staying _. “Sorry. Sorry. Whatever you say, Nico. I’m just glad.”_

_And he was—he was so glad, he was happy that Nico felt like he could have a place here. He was happy he’d get the chance to spend more time with him. He was relieved to let go of the weight of the worry of losing him._

_As Nico left to go talk to Will, Jason felt the stuttering beat of his heart, the way his hands felt like they were going to spark. He tore his gaze away from Nico and Will and walked back towards his cabin, the realization finally washing over him completely._

_He’d known he had some feelings for Nico—he hadn’t been aware of their depth._

_And now he knew, too, that he’d never be able to tell Nico._

_There was Piper, of course, who he still loved. He wanted to make it work with her, after everything they’d gone through together. And now there was an added pit of guilt, with his split feelings._

_And there was the way Will had just been looking at Nico—the fact that Nico liked Percy._

_Nico deserved to have friends that didn’t come with entanglements, Jason thought._

_As much as it hurt, as much as it ached, Jason couldn’t bear to make his feelings Nico’s problem. He didn’t want to be yet another person with too much baggage and too many complications for Nico. He wanted, more than anything, to be able to be there for him—_

_If he ever told Nico about his feelings, he could lose that. He could forfeit his place as Nico’s friend, and his feelings, however inconvenient they could become, were not worth that. They never would be._

\---

Annabeth and Percy were speaking in hushed, sharp tones. It sounded like it might be an argument, but Jason wasn’t sure. He didn’t have the chance to worry about it before Hazel and Leo reappeared, with who Jason could only assume was Piper.

He shifted back, hanging against the wall to avoid being noticed right away.

It was overwhelming, to keep having these people looking at him with the weight of memories he didn’t understand. To have people in _pain_ with his mere presence, and he had no idea how to manage it.

He could only imagine how they felt, looking at him, thinking about their dead friend and the years of grief. While he was essentially nothing more than the distant echo of the person they were missing.

It was wearing on him, a little bit, and he needed a moment to catch his breath before going through it again.

Luckily, there was an immediate distraction.

“Where’s Nico?” Leo asked after glancing around the room.

“Oh—he left,” Percy replied.

“He what now?” Leo’s voice got sharp.

“Um… He said he had class?”

Leo let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Piper hit his arm. “We have plenty of people here. Nico will be back.”

“Yeah, because I’m going to go _get_ him,” Leo replied.

“Leo,” Piper said, her tone a little chiding.

“Don’t _Leo_ me,” Leo muttered back, shooting her a glare.

“Just let Nico go to class,” she said, her voice gently soothing. “He’ll be back, and if he needs the break, we should let him have it. You know how he is.”

Leo’s jaw clenched a little. “Yeah, I _do_ know how he is,” he said back, sharply, almost defensive. “And using charmspeak is cheating.”

Hazel put a hand on Leo’s arm. “Give Nico some space. We’re fine here, alright?”

Leo didn’t look convinced but he sighed. “Fine. Fine, whatever. We’re _fine,_ we always are.”

“That’s the spirit,” Piper replied.

Leo glanced at her, fleetingly. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s _fine,_ right?” she said, lightly teasing but warm.

“Yep. Fine.” Leo’s tone was still clipped, if a little bit calmer.

There was a long moment where Piper and Leo seemed to have some kind of staring contest. Jason felt like they were communicating telepathically.

Piper broke eye contact first, like she’d remembered why they were here. She spun around a little, her gaze raking across the room until they landed on Jason.

She made a small choked noise as their eyes connected.

Jason tried to offer a smile. He wished he knew what to say.

She just crossed the room, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him like it was the end of the world. After a hesitation, Jason managed to hug her back.

When she finally pulled away, she gave him a watery smile, looking desperately relieved.

“Jason Grace,” she said, a little breathless.

“Piper,” he greeted back.

“You know me?” she asked.

He shook his head apologetically. “Just your name.”

“We gotta start somewhere,” she said with a smile. Either she was really good at hiding the hurt, or she was unfazed by Jason’s lack of memories of her. “Gods, you make a habit of scaring the hell out of all of us, don’t you?”

“It’s not on purpose,” he replied, smiling back.

“At a certain point, that gets harder to believe,” Piper teased with a grin. “Well. I guess we have work to do.”

\---

_It was when they were in Seattle._

_Jason saw it coming._

_He and Piper had been tired, and stressed, and feeling defeated. Leo was alive, but they couldn’t find him. For Jason, at least, it was driving him crazy. He’d gone from immense, heavy grief seeing Leo die, to shock and elation when Leo sent the message that he’d survived, to this bizarre limbo._

_He just wanted to see Leo in person, see for sure that he was there._

_It had been instilled in Jason that failure wasn’t an option, and neither was weakness. He was trying so hard to keep his feelings out of the mix._

_Which, honestly, was probably at least part of where the tension with Piper came in._

_She was getting frustrated, and so was he, and it turned out they were on different wavelengths when it came to how to talk about that sort of thing. Jason needed time and space to think and process, and Piper wanted to process out loud, together, in the moment._

_She said it was important to get things out in the open, but Jason had always felt like he needed to know exactly what he was going to say before he said it. Piper found that insincere._

_Meanwhile, Jason felt pressured to be perfect right away._

_It wasn’t Piper’s fault—it wasn’t his, either._

_But it wasn’t exactly a surprise when they got to the hotel room in Seattle and Piper was holding her arms over her chest defensively and said that they needed to talk before they made it to California._

_Jason had sighed, sitting down heavily on the bed. Hanging his head._

_He’d wanted it to work with her. Really, he had. She meant a lot to him, and he wanted that to be enough._

_“We don’t have to do this right away—” Jason tried. “We’re tired, we’re frustrated with not finding Leo. Maybe we should catch our breath first. Give it some time.”_

_Piper didn’t respond for a moment. She looked thoughtful, a crease between her brows as she looked at him steadily._

_“That’s sort of the problem,” she replied carefully. “You keep wanting to put off talking.”_

_“That’s not—I’m not putting it off, I’m…”_

_“I’m sorry, Jason, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was blaming you.”_

_“You didn’t—no, I know.”_

_Piper took a deep breath and sat down next to him. “You’re different than my memories,” she said simply, but the words were heavy._

_Jason frowned, looking at the faded carpet in front of him. There it was, again. He was never going to be the boyfriend she wanted, because he was never going to be the one she remembered._

_“I’m sorry,” he offered._

_“No, don’t—don’t apologize.” Piper glanced over at him with a small smile. “Those memories aren’t you, and it’s not fair to either of us. The Mist is always going to be a problem with us.”_

_Jason rubbed at the back of his neck. “I want us to work. You know that, right?”_

_“Yeah, I know. I did, too.”_

_Past tense. Jason’s shoulders drooped a little._

_“It’s not you, Jason.”_

_Jason managed a weak, wry smile. “Really? ‘It’s not you, it’s me’?” He kept his voice light and gentle, just trying to make this easier on both of them._

_Piper smiled back. “I’m not trying to hit you with clichés. And it really isn’t you, but it’s not me either.”_

_“It sucks that we didn’t just get to meet and know each other without…” Without someone else pulling the strings, without expectations and misconceptions weighing them down, without even knowing what they could’ve been like._

_Piper let out a small breath of laughter. “Yeah. It really, really sucks.”_

_“You’re important to me, Pipes.”_

_She took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “You’re important to me, too,” she said softly. “And I’m always going to want you in my life. But… I can’t be with you anymore. Not like this, not as your girlfriend.”_

_Jason let out a thin sigh. He could’ve pretended before that this was about something else, but now the words were out there._

_“I get it,” he replied. And he did._

_“I need space to—I don’t know. Figure out myself. Not have the gods running my life.”_

_Jason almost wanted to laugh. He wasn’t sure he could imagine a world where the gods weren’t in control of his existence. It had been a fact of his life for so long—he’d been_ given _to Juno. He wasn’t his own._

_“I want to stay friends,” Jason said. He squeezed her hand._

_“Me too,” Piper replied. She leaned into him, dropping her head on his shoulder. “I do love you, Jason. That’s real.”_

_“I love you, too,” he replied._

_He wasn’t heartbroken. It hurt, but he’d known, too, that it was coming. It hurt more that they would never really know if they would’ve been something together without the external forces. He could imagine it either way—_

_Maybe they’d have met, maybe they’d have fallen in love, maybe she would’ve been_ it _for him._

_Or maybe they would’ve just been friends. Maybe it never would’ve sparked into anything if they hadn’t been pushed into it._

_He didn’t know. He never would._

_He’d tried to be a version of himself that didn’t exist for her. She’d tried to let go of the expectations those beautiful memories had given her. They’d both fallen short._

_Underneath the hurt, though, there was relief._

_He could let go of this._

_It had been hard, all that trying. Jason could breathe easier, with one less expectation on his shoulders._

\---

The discussion of next steps was going in circles. Somehow, it simultaneously seemed like everyone had their own ideas about how to handle this, while also having absolutely no clue at all.

Jason got the impression that they’d always had some friction trying to work together. He also got the impression that they were out of practice with it. He wished, distantly, that he remembered how to play mediator.

“I think our best bet is to talk to Juno,” Reyna argued.

“And _I_ think we should avoid Hera at all costs,” Annabeth replied.

“Maybe not _all_ costs,” Percy said.

Annabeth shot him a glare. “The fact that Akhlys is even on the table is _your_ fault,” she retorted.

“Look, we shouldn’t discount any lead here,” Frank said, his diplomatic tone edging into frustration. “We should start by collecting all the possibilities and then go through them from there. We’re not in a position to eliminate potential plans right now.”

The argument just wasn’t going anywhere, and Jason had a faint desire to make up some excuses to dip out for a little while and find some quiet.

It didn’t help that every few minutes or so it seemed like everyone just forgot that he was _there,_ and talked about the whole thing like he wasn’t in the room. He figured running off for a bit wouldn’t change the conversation in the slightest, actually. It might actually streamline the process, to avoid those moments where someone _did_ remember that he was in the room and stumble over themselves while shooting him a self-conscious look.

Before he managed to gather himself and escape, Frank had taken charge of organizing the conversation into something halfway productive, trying to get everyone to take turns submitting their plans for where to begin.

“He’s _starting_ to remember things,” Piper pointed out, starting things off. “Maybe we just wait it out? See how much comes back on its own?”

“It’s foggy, though,” Jason said reluctantly. “And it’s disconnected. I don’t think the memories will come back on their own, I think I’ll just get glimpses.”

“It couldn’t hurt to give it some time, though,” Piper replied.

“We’ve got one for waiting and seeing what happens first,” Frank said. “Alright, next?”

“I think we try to contact Hermes,” Percy said. “He’s the messenger god, he might know something we don’t. Or he could at least get the word out to someone who might help us.”

“I’m not sure about that—” Hazel interjected. “I think it’s best if we _don’t_ get the word out. My father may be looking the other way _now,_ and we should keep it that way. If Jason’s supposed to be dead.” She cast an apologetic glance Jason’s way.

“Noted. Hermes is still on the table, though.” Frank glanced around. “Who else?”

“Juno,” Reyna said, like it was obvious. “She was the one who took his memories the first time.”

“But she never restored them,” Annabeth countered.

“Annabeth, what do you have, then?” Frank asked.

“I think we should start with research. Maybe look into ways to reverse the effects of River Lethe, see what that might tell us.”

“We know that the Lethe wasn’t how he lost his memories, though,” Reyna put in.

“That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be a good place to start for leads,” Annabeth replied.

“Keeping Juno and Lethe as options,” Frank said, putting a hand up to stop them. “Who else?”

“What about retracing Jason’s steps? Going back to Colorado,” Thalia offered up. “ _Something_ or someone was keeping him safe there. Might be worth finding out.”

“Okay,” Frank glanced around again. “Leo? Hazel? You guys have anything?”

Hazel took a breath. “I think—I think we see if we could talk to Jupiter. He probably doesn’t have anything to do with how Jason _lost_ his memories, but I bet he could restore them.”

Percy let out a snort. “Yeah, we’d just have to trust that _he’d_ help,” he muttered.

Annabeth hit Percy’s arm lightly. “Don’t,” she said, warning in her tone, glancing at Jason with slight concern.

Jason got that, but the comment hadn’t stung. He agreed with Percy. He might not _remember,_ but he was pretty sure that relying on his father’s help was a dead end.

Frank turned to Leo. “What about you?”

Leo shrugged one shoulder, actually looking vaguely irritated. “I think we go with what _Jason_ wants to try,” he said simply.

There was quiet for a brief moment after that.

“You’re right,” Piper replied mildly. “We get all the plans on the board, and Jason should make the call.”

“Alright,” Frank said. “Any remaining ideas first?”

No one offered any up, so Frank turned fully to Jason.

“Jason,” he said, a serious edge in his voice. “What do you think?”

Jason bit the inside of his lip for a moment.

His first instinct was to say he didn’t _know._ That he couldn’t make this decision, because he had _no idea_ about any of these things.

But that wasn’t quite true, was it?

Maybe he didn’t remember, but he had _feelings_ about things he knew to be true.

He knew that reaching out to Jupiter would get them nowhere. His father was not going to answer, let alone help, and there was little doubt in his mind about that.

He knew that sending a message out with Hermes would be a dead end at best, and at worst, might put him in danger and draw attention to the goddesses that saved him. He didn’t relish the idea of Leucothea or Achelois or whoever else getting in trouble.

He knew that if Juno hadn’t restored his memories when _she’d_ been the one to take them, there was no way she’d be the one to help now.

He knew that there was nothing left for him in Colorado. Any anyway, whatever or whoever had protected him there had followed him here, too. Backtracking wouldn’t do any good.

The idea of looking into the Lethe was intriguing, but Jason was doubtful it would actually result in a solid lead. It had a better shot of just illuminating more about the concept of memory loss in general. Useful, maybe, but not enough.

“Akhlys,” he said, feeling pretty certain of himself. “I think she’s our best option.”

Annabeth’s expression tightened. “Jason—” she started.

“Now, hold on—” Percy said at the same moment, looking at Jason with a little bit of panic.

“She’s the inverse of Achelois,” Jason said. “If anyone can get me my memories back, it _is_ her. Like it or not.”

“I do _not_ like it,” Percy muttered.

“Akhlys is in the Underworld,” Annabeth said carefully. “In _Tartarus.”_

She said it like it was supposed to make Jason back down, but he met her gaze steadily. His resolve hardened.

It felt like the right decision—the only thing that could really _lead_ anywhere.

There was a bit of a heavy silence.

“Well,” Leo said. “I guess _now_ I should go get Nico, huh?”

\---

_In California, Jason felt alone. His dorm room was small but it seemed like it kept growing, the walls expanding. Drawing attention to all the space between himself and everyone else. He’d felt this alone before—it wasn’t a new pain._

_But that made it worse, a little bit. This stale hurt coming back up to haunt him. Maybe he’d thought, in some small hopeful way, that he was done being that alone._

_It was partially his fault. He knew that. He’d chosen this. He’d wanted it._

_His reasons hardly seemed worth it now, though._

_When he wrote to Nico the last time, he had to stop himself from writing more. The postcard was short because he had too much to say, too much that he didn’t know how to get into words._

_He knew that they were on good enough terms when he left, but he also knew that Nico had been upset. He wanted Nico to know that he was trying, that he’d missed him, that he’d never wanted to leave him._

_Really, Jason was finding that not seeing Nico had just made his feelings for him more clear._

_Once again, when he hadn’t been paying attention, Nico had settled further into his heart. His feelings had burrowed._

_And just in time for Nico to have started dating Will Solace. Naturally. It didn’t matter, not really—Jason knew that he still couldn’t tell Nico about his feelings. Wouldn’t have been able to even without the new development. The risk of losing Nico would never be worth it to him._

_He kept the postcard short. He couldn’t spill everything he felt, everything he wanted. He held back the depths of it._

_But in the end, what he needed to say was simple._

_He wanted to see Nico. He hoped that asking him to come would be enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently got semi obsessed with Jason's gold coin from The Lost Hero. Maybe it shows.   
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr, if you like! (especially if you feel like talking about Jason's coin)


	8. a matter of memories and dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could just say no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I'm like "oh man, something intense is gonna happen soon" and then I'm like "that means it's time to put it off with some Feelings instead, right?"

At least he could breathe again.

Nico had been _deeply_ tempted to take off entirely. Bail on class, too, and just get far, far away. Maybe to the Underworld, maybe to New York, maybe to Austin. He had genuinely thought about where he could hide out where someone would let him. Camp Half-Blood probably wouldn’t really work, but… He imagined that Will would at least give him a break, let him cool off. He imagined that his dad wouldn’t really care what he was hiding out about.

Just… _run away._ It was a stale, familiar temptation. Nico knew it well.

But, much as he wanted to, Nico wasn’t that person anymore. He didn’t run away like that. He’d learned to be the kind of person that didn’t run away.

_Styx,_ he wanted to, though. Desperately.

The way Jason had started looking at him, had started talking to him…

Nico wasn’t even sure exactly what he was so afraid of, but he was pretty petrified. It was the kind of deep, tangled fear that wrapped around his veins like vines choking out a tree. He didn’t know how he was supposed to _deal._

It was fine. Whatever. It _would_ be fine, because it fucking had to be, right? There was no other option.

Jason had asked Nico to come back. And whatever else he felt right now—anger, fear, frustration—Nico couldn’t say no to Jason when he asked _like that._ It was true then, it was true now, it would be true forever.

He did need some space to breathe, though.

So Nico went to class.

Maybe he wouldn’t be completely able to focus on the actual content of the lecture, but it was a relief to just be able to breathe for a few moments. Feel _normal._ His life had always been anything but normal, but he’d at least been able to settle into _something_ easier the past few years.

He hated himself, a little bit, for the part of him that wanted the simplicity back. He _didn’t_ want it back, not really. He’d give up any peace or safety or calm for Jason. He had more than proved that.

Actually, Nico wasn’t sure what he _wouldn’t_ give up for Jason. He hadn’t hit an upper limit quite yet.

That kind of scared him. Well, it _really_ scared him. It should’ve scared him at the time, in Tartarus, the lengths that he was willing to go for Jason Grace. But at the time, it had felt so inevitable that Nico barely even thought about it.

In retrospect? It was terrifying, having that kind of devotion stretching into the corners of his heart. Nico didn’t want to care so much.

Caring was how he got hurt. Having something to lose was petrifying.

Especially now, especially this. Nico was so afraid.

The lecture was sort of soothing. It was his Religious Studies: Death & the Afterlife class, and the teacher had a PowerPoint about funeral rituals in different cultures. In a weird way, it relaxed Nico. It felt familiar, comfortable. He half-listened, taking some sparse notes, more out of habit than anything else. His notes tended to spiral off into vague doodles anyway.

Class passed in that way class always passed—time seeming a little frozen, the broken clock in the corner of the room making the minutes longer by its sheer presence. Nico appreciated the slowness of it. He kind of wanted it to last forever, sinking into the calm of the professor’s voice, the sounds of his classmates typing or writing in notebooks, the ease of the mortal world.

But eventually, the professor finished up the lecture, reminding them all of their final papers that were coming up. Which reminded Nico that, oh yeah, he only had about a month left of school at all before he’d graduate.

It felt weird. It was the one normal thing in his life. Maybe it would _always_ be the only normal thing in his life, these memories of being a college student, pretending like his world wasn’t completely different from everyone around him. Playing the part.

He was still thinking about how he had no idea what came next—in _any_ area of his life, at this point—when he left the classroom and almost ran directly into Leo.

Nico half-tripped in an effort to stop short, dropping his notebook.

Leo was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He picked up Nico’s notebook and handed it back to him.

“Well, hey there,” Leo said with a tight grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Nico sighed. “What are you doing here?” he asked wearily.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

Nico rolled his eyes and kept walking, wanting to get out of the building before Leo started igniting in agitation. He did that sometimes.

“Trying to run away from me?” Leo said, following.

“If I was, I’d already be gone,” Nico replied. “But you’re impossible to get rid of, so what would be the point?”

“Well, I do know where you live.”

They got outside and Nico headed to the side of the building to avoid any crowds still lingering by the entrance. He leaned against the wall, sighing heavily, glancing up towards the sky.

Sometimes, Nico felt like the bright blue cloudless California sky and relentless sunshine was just mocking him. It was too aggressively cheerful. He’d have felt better with some quieter overcast, softening the colors.

There were a few long moments of silence. Nico knew that Leo was waiting for him to explain himself, maybe get defensive over bailing on Jason like that. But Nico was _not_ about to give that conversation an opening.

He wasn’t sorry about it, for one thing. And he didn’t want to fight about this.

Leo, of _all_ people, should understand why Nico couldn’t stay in that room. Why he needed some space. Why he needed a chance to _breathe._

“You’re avoiding,” Leo said, finally breaking the silence and crossing his arms.

Nico rolled his eyes. “Amazing. Leo Valdez, everyone,” he muttered. “Master of perception.”

“Nico,” Leo said.

“Of _course_ I’m avoiding, what do you want from me?”

Leo spread his arms. “What do you _think?_ I want you to _be there._ I want you to suck it up and quit running. Nico, dude, I get that this is hard for you, but you know what? It’s hard for me, too, and I need you there.”

So much for not having this fight.

Nico wanted to scream.

“I can’t—”

“Bullshit. You _can._ And you and I both know you’ll hate yourself if you’re not a part of this.” Leo sighed, flexing his hands and shoving them in his pockets. “And Jason needs you, too.”

A bitter laugh bubbled out of Nico’s chest. “Please. He doesn’t need _me._ He has plenty of people there for him right now.”

“Well, then, let me go back to the fact that _I_ need you!” Leo shot back, his voice rising a little. “Which, honestly, dude, should be enough.”

“There’s plenty of people there for you, too!” Nico replied, matching Leo’s tone.

“And what, you think they _get_ it?” Leo retorted, sharp. “We all grieved Jason, but you and I were the ones that went off the deep end. You think this isn’t driving me crazy, too? That after everything we went through, after where we went and what we did, Jason just shows up years later? It’s _insane,_ alright?”

“Yeah,” Nico said. He sighed, flat and exhausted. “It’s insane.”

“I love him, too—just as much as you do. I get that it’s more complicated for you, I _get_ that it’s not the same, but it’s not _less,_ and you don’t get a monopoly on freaking out right now.”

Nico’s face heated at that, crossing his arms in defensive frustration. He was ready to snap back, but Leo wasn’t finished.

“Oh, and how about this—” Leo went on hotly. “ _When_ did you first see Jason? Because, man, don’t think I didn’t connect those dots. You’ve been weird for, like, two weeks. How long did you wait to tell me?”

Nico clenched his jaw. Yeah, he knew Leo would realize, and he knew he’d be pissed. He didn’t want to have this conversation, either. Add it to the list.

“I needed to be sure,” Nico said in a low tone.

“And you didn’t think I’d wanna know?” Leo replied.

“No, that’s the _problem,_ I knew you’d want to know right away!” Nico said, with an abrupt, restless gesture. He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. “I knew you’d get sucked into it just like I did, because of _course_ you would. But what if I was wrong, or—or what if it was a trick? It was too late for me, because I’d already _seen_ him, but… Look, I couldn’t tell you without being _sure._ ”

“So, what, you were _protecting_ me?” Leo said. “Is that the excuse you’re going with?”

Nico swallowed back a scoff. “What, is that hard to believe?”

Leo clenched his jaw and let out a frustrated sigh. He glared at Nico, the quiet tension tangible.

“God, I hate you sometimes,” Leo said.

“No, you don’t,” Nico replied.

Leo sighed again. “No, I don’t,” he agreed. The agitation went out of him a little bit. “I would _love_ to be mad at you for this, but honestly, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“Yeah, you _would’ve,”_ Nico said pointedly.

“How can you _agree_ with me in a confrontational tone?” Leo muttered.

Nico just shrugged.

Leo groaned into his palms.

“I’m losing my mind, dude. I just keep thinking about how, like—he _could’ve_ been found, right? It was bad enough when we just didn’t know, but _fuck_ dude—why didn’t we just _check Colorado?”_

At that, Nico actually started snickering helplessly, pressing a hand to his mouth. It was so ridiculous. It was so crazy, and this was just their _lives._ He felt just at the edge of hysterical.

But Leo started laughing, too, sounding at a similar loss.

“ _Why_ would we have checked Colorado?” Nico managed to get out after a few minutes.

“Right?” Leo replied, gesturing widely. “We went to _Tartarus_ but not _fucking Denver.”_

“The whole time, we could’ve just been sticking to the mortal world,” Nico said.

“Next time someone goes missing, I swear, we are checking Colorado _first.”_

Nico let out another short, helpless laugh that fizzled out right as it hit the air. Gods, he was so tired. He dragged his hands down his face, shaking his head.

“Will you just…” Leo said with a sigh. “Come back? I can’t deal with this without you. Fuckin’… organic lifeforms, the living—I _need_ you there, man.”

“I was gonna come back,” Nico mumbled. “You didn’t have to come _get_ me. I was gonna come back.”

Leo arched a skeptical eyebrow.

Nico let out a short breath. “I _was,”_ he insisted. “I mean. Okay, I won’t pretend like I _didn’t_ think about running away. But I wasn’t going to _do_ it. I just… thought about it.”

“Where were you gonna go?” Leo asked.

Nico considered it for a moment. If he’d actually gone through with it… “Honestly? Probably Austin.”

Leo furrowed his brow. “Austin, Texas? What’s in Austin?”

Nico offered a forced smile and a shrug. “Will.”

“Will _Solace?”_ Leo echoed incredulously. “Are you _kidding_ me? You were thinking about hiding out with your _ex?_ You’re seriously desperate. How would that be better?”

“Not better,” Nico said, sighing. “Just less complicated.”

“Christ, di Angelo.”

“I know.”

“Would Will have let you?”

Nico shrugged. “For a little while, probably. I mean. I imagine he would’ve gotten on my case about it and lectured me about _facing things_ or whatever. Because he’s Will. But he’s _Will_ , so he would’ve taken enough pity on me to let me hide for a bit, at least.”

“Would you have done it?” Leo asked. “I mean, actually.”

“No,” Nico replied with another heavy sigh. It was the truth. With knots in his chest, he knew that he couldn’t have actually run away, not from this. “Jason asked me to come back. I’m coming back. It is what it is.”

Leo’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “Oh, I see how it is. _Jason_ asked. Never mind that _I_ asked.”

Nico shot Leo a look. “I’m capable of saying no to you,” he replied.

Leo let out a short laugh, but whatever levity was in his expression faded quick and he shot an apprehensive glance at Nico.

“Just to confirm. You’re coming back, right? Voluntarily? No suddenly disappearing in the shadows? I’m not going to have to drag you?” Leo said. Something in his tone put Nico on edge.

“Yes,” Nico said slowly. He felt like he was about to regret that answer.

Leo forced a smile. “Cool. Then I guess I should tell you the plan, because dude, you’re part of it.”

\---

_“I think—” Nico started. His voice was a little shaky. “I think that I want to talk about it.”_

_Leo stilled. He glanced back at Nico from where he stood at the stove with a smile and offered an apologetic shrug. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, dude.”_

_They’d been living together a while. It had been long enough since escaping Tartarus that the nightmares weren’t every single night anymore. Nico felt almost comfortable. Not quite, but almost. It was bearable, at least, and he and Leo were learning how to live together._

_“You said… I mean, you said that if I ever wanted to talk about my feelings for—for Jason—” Nico took a breath. It was still hard to say Jason’s name. Maybe it always would be. He stared intently down at the countertop. “You said that I could talk to you about it. If I ever wanted to.”_

_“Oh,” Leo replied. He cleared his throat, turning back to the stove. “Right. Okay. Sure.”_

_Leo sounded so uncomfortable. Nico shrank._

_“Never mind. Sorry. This is weird.”_

_“No, it’s not, I—okay, yeah, it’s super weird, but…” Leo let out a short sigh and half laughed a little. “But I meant it. Look, it’s us, it’s always gonna be weird to, like, actually talk about this sort of thing. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it. Right? You want to. So just… tell me. I’m here.”_

_“What… do you know already?” Nico asked. His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat. “I mean. What did you see? How much do you know about… that?”_

_Leo’s shoulders tensed a little. He tapped his fingers in a strange rhythm against the counter, like Morse code, and Nico was pretty sure he saw a wisp of smoke coming from them._

_“Not as much as you’re afraid of, I think,” Leo said. “Just… enough.”_

_“Okay, but… What did you see that made you know?” Nico asked._

_Leo turned the stove down so that his sauce was at a simmer, and he finally fully looked at Nico. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest._

_“Dude, I really didn’t want to see into your mind, alright?” Leo said. “I know we haven’t talked about this before. And I still don’t get what happened. But I didn’t want to see your nightmares.”_

_Nico stifled a sigh. “Yeah. Sorry.”_

_“No, I—” Leo took a breath. “What I mean is that Tartarus didn’t seem to give a shit about our boundaries. I know I wasn’t super into the idea of you seeing into my nightmares. And I didn’t want to see… things that were personal to you. That was yours, and I didn’t want to take that from you. So we can start from scratch. Pretend I don’t know anything.”_

_“That might be worse,” Nico muttered. He didn’t really relish the idea of explaining himself. It sort of made it easier to not have to say the words out loud, put them into the air. Nico didn’t love the idea of Leo seeing his nightmares, either, but at least it meant he didn’t have to go through the trouble of saying things he’d gotten deeply in the habit of suppressing._

_“Can I tell you something?” Leo asked._

_Nico sighed. “You might as well.”_

_“Hazel showed me her memories once,” Leo said. “Without going into too much detail about things that are_ hers, _she wanted to… show me why she was so weird with me.”_

_Nico tilted his head, sort of caught off guard by the shift in the conversation. He wasn’t sure where Leo was going with this. “I didn’t know that.”_

_“It was… I mean, she chose to show me, so it wasn’t like with us in Tartarus, but… Well, it was weird,” Leo went on. “And it was hard. And I guess, yeah, it explained everything without us having to use the words, y’know? Like seeing it in front of me filled in the blanks.”_

_“Sounds simpler than explaining it,” Nico said, a little pointed._

_Leo shrugged, looking down at the ground. “Yeah. Well, to be honest, I kinda wish she’d just talked to me instead.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because then I would’ve heard it from her. It would’ve been her words, her understanding of the situation, not just my interpretation of her memories. Like, yes, her memories showed me, but I had to fill in the blanks myself. Make my own assumptions, or—” Leo made a small, frustrated noise. “It’s—gods, talking about things sucks, I get it, I know that. I hate it sometimes. But we can’t just skip that part.”_

_“I mean, we_ could _,” Nico muttered._

_Leo shot Nico a look._

_“Neither of us are about to win any awards for communication. But we should try, at least, right?” He took a breath. “My point is… Whatever you want me to know, I want you to make the decision to tell me.”_

_Nico narrowed his eyes. “You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he said sharply. “You already know—I mean, seriously,_ can’t _we skip this? What’s the point?”_

_“The point is that it should be a choice!” Leo replied, his tone just as sharp. “We didn’t get to decide what to tell each other, because Tartarus is fucked up, and we were stupid enough to go there, so that just—it just_ happened _to us. And I don’t want you to talk to me about this just because I’m the only one you don’t have to actually tell. That’s hollow and you know it.”_

_“Di immortales, you’re annoying,” Nico snapped._

_“Yeah, well. You already knew that.”_

_Nico groaned, frustrated. “Why does this matter to you, Valdez?”_

_“Because it_ does _matter,” Leo replied. “Look, I’d rather be able to pick who knows what about me. I don’t super dig the idea of people just knowing shit about my life. And I know you’re the same way, dude.”_

_“Sure, but it’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Nico muttered._

_“Nope. I’m making the executive decision that it isn’t.”_

_“That’s not how it works.”_

_“It’s how it works if it’s how I say it works,” Leo said with a shrug and a grin._

_“Gods, are you always like this?”_

_“What, stubborn and impossible to argue with? Pot, meet kettle.”_

_Nico glared. He could exactly argue with that assessment, but that didn’t mean he liked it._

_Leo sighed, and his expression softened a little. Like he was dropping the act. “Look, I’m giving us this, okay? Both of us. I’m giving us back our ability to choose.”_

_Fine. Whatever. Leo wanted to pretend like either of them still had any autonomy, any agency in who got to know what about them. Nico knew better—this had been, what, the third time he’d gotten his secrets, his traumas, seen by someone else without being able to decide? There was Jason with Cupid. Then Reyna, with how Nico understood her strength-sharing power working. And then Leo in Tartarus._

_Nico had never had any control over what people knew about him. His secrets always seemed balanced on a knife’s edge. It was never his decision._

_And even in the rare occasions when it was, Nico had a tendency to talk around things. He didn’t say the words out loud—he let people fill in blanks, he implied and he alluded to and he avoided. He was always avoiding. He barely said the words to himself. His feelings for Percy had been so tangled in his chest—he covered them with hate, with mistrust, with betrayal. He covered them with the assumptions of others about how of course it must be Annabeth, how could it not be_ her?

_Leo was a little more direct, a little more blunt, but Nico knew half the time he was telling jokes and being snarky to pretend like he didn’t have the deeper shades of anger and sadness and loneliness._

_Well, Leo said it best. Neither of them were winning any awards for communication._

_But maybe it was worth a shot. If only for the sake of pretending, for a moment, that they got to have the choice._

_Nico could try to say the words—see if he was capable of it, at the very least._

_He took a deep breath._

_“I think—” Nico stared down into his hands. He had a couple smaller scars on his fingertips from trying to help his mom with cooking when he was too little to know not to touch the pan. The few scars he had that were attached to warm memories. “I think I was in love with him.”_

_“Shit,” Leo exhaled._

_Nico’s face got hot. Leo sounded genuinely like he hadn’t known that. Nico had a kneejerk regret about saying anything._

_“I mean, I just—I don’t know.”_

_“Nico—”_

_“This is stupid. Talking about it won’t change anything.”_

_“Okay.”_

_Nico looked up. “You’re not going to tell me to try anyway?”_

_“I meant what I said,” Leo said. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”_

_“This might be easier if you would just pester me into it,” Nico said flatly._

_Leo shrugged. “I’m not trying to make it easy. I’m trying to make it yours.”_

_“You’re obnoxious.”_

_“It’s part of my charm.”_

_Nico shot him a glare, but broke eye contact quickly. No way could he say anything while meeting anyone’s gaze. He was trying his best, but that was too far._

_“I miss him,” Nico said softly._

_“Yeah,” Leo replied. “Me too.”_

_“Jason was always so patient, and understanding, and I—” Nico, by some minor miracle, managed to swallow back the way his voice was about to break. He told himself he could get through this without losing it. “There’s no one else like him.”_

_A moment of dark, heavy silence settled between them. It was true. Jason Grace was one of a kind. Irreplaceable, in every way Nico could think of. It was sort of bleak to think about the fact that his absence was going to be a permanent fixture in the world, no way to fix or even soften the loss._

_Nico had said_ I think _to Leo, but that wasn’t the truth. He knew. He knew, beyond any doubt, what his feelings were. Even if he wished he didn’t._

_“He was just—” Nico took a breath. He took another. He tried to speak deliberately, each word careful and steady. “No one talked to me like Jason did. He saw me.”_

_Nervously, Nico glanced up. Leo was looking back at him in quiet understanding._

_“I loved him,” Nico said, voice close to a whisper. “I mean—I do. I am. I’m—I’m in love with him. I think I always will be.”_

_The feelings had hurt enough when they were stored away where Nico couldn’t look at them. They had hurt enough when he knew they were pointless because Jason could never feel that way. They had hurt enough when he was trying to force them away, so he could finally get over it and move on._

_With the words said out loud, they hurt more. With Jason gone, they hurt so much more._

_Nico took a shaky breath, hating the tears pricking at his eyes. He steadied himself, swallowing it back before he could break._

_“It’s so hard for me to trust people, but I trusted him. He told me he cared about me, and I actually believed it.” Nico looked down at his hands. “And now he’s gone, and I just—I hate him for it. I hate him for leaving. I’m always going to love him, and I’m never going to forgive him, and what am I supposed to do with that?”_

_He glanced up, meeting Leo’s gaze. He was surprised to find that he could, that he didn’t need to look away again. Leo looked solemn, his mouth in a stiff line, his brow furrowed in his own half-concealed grief._

_“He should still be here,” Nico replied, his voice trembling._

_“It’s not fair,” Leo agreed softly._

_Which, somehow, was the thing that unraveled Nico. He curled inward, letting the tears falls._

\---

“I hate this,” Nico announced. “I just want to make that absolutely clear. I _hate_ this.”

“You are _not_ the only one,” Annabeth muttered, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, well, I’m the only one that’s being asked to _actually do it,”_ he snarked back.

She raised her hands. “I’m on _your_ side here,” she said.

“Whose idea was this?” Nico asked with a sigh.

Annabeth turned to Percy sharply. “Yes, _whose?”_

Nico turned his glare to Percy. “I’ll kill you,” he said, tone flat.

Percy raised his hands. “It was _not_ my idea,” he said defensively.

“It might as well have been!” Annabeth shot back.

“It was mine,” Jason interjected.

Nico looked at him, swallowed some snapped, harsh words that he wanted to throw.

“It’s a bad idea,” was what he settled on, keeping his voice as even as he could.

Jason, because he was _Jason,_ just met his gaze unflinchingly and didn’t back down.

“It’s the best one we have,” Jason replied.

“I could just say no,” Nico said.

“ _Are_ you saying no?” Jason asked.

Nico didn’t answer, because he couldn’t. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying to just _deal_ with all of this. Maybe he should’ve run off to Austin. Maybe he should’ve given in to the temptation, because this was _too fucking much._

Hell, maybe he still _could_ run to Austin. Sure, he’d already told Leo about that, so it wouldn’t be much of a hiding place anymore, but—

“So what are we doing?” Hazel asked, her voice low.

Nico’s eyes snapped open. “ _We_ aren’t doing anything,” he said sharply.

“But—”

“No.”

Hazel crossed her arms. “You’re just going to Tartarus by yourself, then?”

“Not by myself. Me and Jason. And no one else, any more than that and Akhlys will feel threatened. And we won’t have to _actually_ go into Tartarus. I don’t—I don’t think, anyway,” Nico said, chewing at his lower lip. “I can figure out another way. I think. It won’t be _safe,_ but it wouldn’t be _literally going into Tartarus,_ so it’ll have to do.”

Annabeth spread her arms. “Well, as long as it’s _not Tartarus,_ I guess,” she said sarcastically.

“Low bar for safety, I get it,” Nico sighed back. “What else is new?”

“You can’t be serious,” Hazel said.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Nico replied.

“Uh, like hell it isn’t,” Leo said.

“It _isn’t,”_ Nico repeated emphatically. “This is what I’m offering, take it or leave it.”

“I’m on board,” Jason said, his tone resolute. “What’s the plan?”

Nico was not a fan of that being up to _him._ First of all—the conceit of the plan was already terrible. And then there was also that _he_ was the expert, so of course he would have to figure out the details. His mind was swirling a little bit, overwhelmed by everyone in the room, by all the eyes on him, by the fact of what he was being asked to do.

And that wasn’t even getting to the thing that was clutching at his chest the most. No matter what plan he came up with, it was going to put Jason in danger.

“I’m… I need—I need some air. _You—”_ Nico pointed at Jason, who looked a little startled. _“Don’t_ follow me.”

“Nico—” Leo started.

“Not you, either. Just…” Nico put a hand up, letting out a shaky breath that was almost a laugh. “Some air. I’ll be right back.”

He turned and walked briskly out the door.

Outside, leaning against a tree, Nico tried to remember how to breathe. He was sure he knew how to once. He remembered thinking about it earlier that same day. And yet.

Nico shivered, remembering—

Remembering Akhlys. The sound of her poisonous, mocking voice. The way her presence itched at Nico’s skin.

_So perfect—so miserable—_

The echoing of everything she said to him—that version of him that was so young, and so angry, who _hated_ himself _so much…_

_What more could I do to you? What could I ever do to you that you don’t already do to yourself?_

_So much sorrow and pain—_

_Your misery—oh, it’s so absolute. Perfect._

Nico felt a little sick. Of all the people he never wanted to see again.

It was almost _worse,_ now, to think about the fact that she could actually hurt him. Back then, he’d been so hopeless, so full of hate and pain, he’d felt like it barely mattered what happened to him. After all, _what could she do that he hadn’t already done?_

It was a little easier to face the goddess of misery when he was already so empty and so _fucking_ unhappy that he was barely afraid. She couldn’t make him any _more_ broken, so why should he fear her, right?

He was stronger, now, he supposed. But he was also more vulnerable. Life hadn’t been perfect, but it hadn’t been _miserable,_ either. It had its moments.

He had things to lose now. It used to be easier to believe, that he couldn’t _get_ any more hurt than he’d already been. But he’d been _better,_ these past years. He’d grown, and he’d learned, and he’d tried to find ways to be okay.

He’d succeeded, too, in a lot of ways. He’d _been_ okay. For years, he’d been okay. He had friends, family, a life. The losses and the trauma he’d suffered through would never not hurt, and Nico was never under the impression that all his problems could be solved, but…

He was okay.

He didn’t want to go _back_ to never being okay.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

As he was steadying his breathing, he heard footsteps approaching him cautiously. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes again.

He’d been expecting Hazel, or maybe Leo, having ignored him saying not to follow.

He hadn’t been expecting Piper, with her arms pulled around herself, looking at him with wide, too-earnest eyes.

Nico cleared his throat, straightening up. “What do you want?” he asked evenly.

“I’m just checking on you, Nico,” she replied, her tone sort of tired. Like she’d been expecting him to be standoffish and prickly, but had, as always, been holding out hope that he wouldn’t be for once. He bit back any guilt.

“I’m fine,” he replied in a clipped tone.

Piper forced a smile. “Well, we both know that isn’t true.”

He narrowed his eyes. “As far as you’re concerned, I’m fine, because it’s not your business,” he said coldly.

She sighed. “Nico—”

He inhaled sharply, shooting her a look.

She raised her hands up in surrender. “You _know_ that I get it. That I’m not here to fight.”

Trying to hold onto the jagged tension between them was _exhausting._ Piper made it so hard.

He gestured vaguely back towards the apartment door. “He made his decision. I’m being asked to help. It’s _fine._ I can manage.”

Piper snorted. “Leave it to him to pick the riskiest plan.”

Nico wanted to laugh. He tightened his jaw. “At least there’s no question that it’s him,” he said with a sigh. “I mean, if nothing else proved it for sure…”

Piper forced a smile. “Yeah. Never passes up a chance to risk his life. I know.”

“What are the odds he’ll change his mind and let us go with your plan?” Nico muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. He kept his eye glued towards the apartment, not wanting to glance Piper’s way at this begrudgingly late olive branch. “Just wait it out and hope for the best.”

“Oh, I’d put the odds firmly at zero,” she replied. “The second Percy told him about Akhlys, we didn’t have a chance.”

Nico sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. Piper stood close enough to remind him that he’d gained several inches of height on her over the years.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she said quietly. With certainty in her tone.

Nico almost believed her for a moment, which made him think, distantly, that maybe her charmspeak had finally begun to have an effect on him.

But no, she was just that sincere.

“How can you be sure?” he said, his tone a shade too bare. He hated it, a little bit, but there was no taking it back.

“Because,” she said, with a strange lightness in her voice, “you’d never let anything happen to him.”

\---

_“He knew, you know,” Piper said quietly._

_Nico had been expertly avoiding her for, well, basically years at that point. But he was bound to slip up eventually._

_They didn’t get all together often. Maybe once a year, they managed to. Nico had learned to suck it up and stop fabricating excuses to not show at all, but learning to face people was a slow effort, and it was more difficult with some people than with others._

_Nico was pretty sure he’d always have a hard time with Piper._

_He cleared his throat, trying to find something to say that would get him away from this conversation as fast as possible. He didn’t know what, exactly, Piper was referring to, but he sure as hell didn’t want to deal with it._

_Before he could say anything, though, Piper interrupted._

_“Please don’t run off,” she said, fast and soft._

_“What?” he replied. Half to play dumb, half because he was actually caught off guard._

_“Nico, I know—” She hesitated. She seemed uncertain, almost insecure. Nico was fully surprised by that. He knew that she made him nervous; he never would’ve expected that to go both ways. “I know we’ve never really been friends.”_

_Where was she going with this?_

_“But please—you don’t have to avoid me.”_

_“I’m not—” His denial was half-hearted, forced. He didn’t bother to finish it._

_“I just—I wanted to talk to you about…”_

_He clenched his jaw. “Fine.”_

_She looked at him, eyes curious and sad. “Did you know he was going to die?” she asked._

_Nico stiffened. He hadn’t been expecting that. “No,” he said, with a slight edge. He felt defensive immediately._

_But Piper just nodded, taking his response at face value. No suspicion in her gaze at all._

_“He did,” she said simply._

_Nico felt cold. “He what?”_

_He was catching up to what Piper had been trying to tell him, but he suddenly didn’t want to know. He wanted to be wrong._

_“He knew he was going to die,” she said._

_Nico let out a bitter scoff. He wished he could be more surprised by that._

_“Of course he did,” Nico muttered, tired anger bubbling. He didn’t have it in him to actually hate Jason, but he really wanted to sometimes. He wanted to hate Jason for this. For all of it, really, but this particular revelation made Nico’s skin itch with it._

_“I guess it was going to be me or him, and…” She shrugged helplessly._

_“And he’d never have let it be you,” Nico finished for her. Of course._

_“It’s okay if you’re mad at me for it,” Piper said quickly. “If you blame me.”_

_Nico stared at her for a second, uncomprehending. “What?”_

_Piper looked steely, determined. “I know that sometimes, with stuff like this, you just have to be mad at someone. It’s okay if it’s me.”_

_“I’m—I’m not mad at you,” he replied._

_“Oh,” Piper said. She blinked at him, like she was confused. “I… Thank you.”_

_“For what?” he replied with a sharp look._

_She blinked again, before shaking her head and pulling her arms tight around her waist._

_“Nico, I’ve been wanting…”_

_“You really don’t have to—”_

_“Just… since you showed up at my place that time,” she said. She shot him a meaningful glance and he felt sick._

_“Piper—”_

_“The way you felt about him—”_

_“Don’t. Please. I—I can’t do this with you.”_

_“Nico—”_

_“I have to go.”_

_He melted into shadows before she could get another word out. And went back to avoiding her._

\---

They ended up agreeing that while Nico and Jason go chase after Akhlys, everyone else would explore the abandoned options. Looking into the River Lethe and seeing about contacting Juno seemed to be the favorites.

Leo had cast some too-meaningful glances at Nico, though whether it was at the fact that Nico and Jason were going to be alone in their apartment or about Nico wanting to run away, Nico wasn’t sure. He’d done his best to ignore it either way.

He just wanted to get through this with losing his mind. And without losing Jason _again._

Which was how they, somehow, ended up _here._

Back at Nico’s apartment, without Leo this time.

Nico felt words tangled in the back of his throat, and he suspected that Jason might’ve had a similar predicament, because he hadn’t said anything, either. The silence leaving Percy and Annabeth’s place, the silence in the shadows, and now the silence as they stood in Nico’s living room.

Nico still hated the plan, was trying to figure out how he was going to cope with it.

He was also, possibly, trying to think of a sequence of words that would make Jason change his mind entirely and decide to take the gift Achelois had given him of a _painless life._

When _that_ particular detail was explained to Nico, it did not escape his attention that Jason forgetting pain meant forgetting _him._ And yes, it meant forgetting _everything else,_ too, but Nico was having a hard time dealing with the idea that _he’d_ hurt Jason.

It was a little hard to drift away from, one of those magnetic thoughts that tugs you back in whenever you start to think of something else.

“So I guess we—” Jason’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. Nico looked at him sharply, wondering if maybe, he was more afraid than he was letting on. “We just… get some rest. And then in the morning, we’ll—”

Jason made a vague gesture that Nico supposed was meant to represent _“make Nico lead us into a life-threatening situation, thus forcing him to take responsibility if something horrible happens.”_

“Yes, Jason, in the morning we’ll try and contact the _incredibly_ dangerous and unfriendly goddess who truly has no interest in helping us even a little,” he said dryly.

Jason winced a little, but shot Nico a sheepish smile. “Yeah, that. Have I thanked you yet?”

Nico rolled his eyes. “No. And _don’t.”_

“But—”

“Seriously. Don’t thank me for letting you risk your life. Trust me, I don’t want to.”

Jason’s expression sobered a little. “I _am_ grateful,” he said seriously.

Nico turned away, his face hot. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“I just can’t think of any better options,” Jason said in a low tone.

Nico sighed.

Yeah, there wasn’t _much_ they could do. Their options seemed pretty limited, considering their lack of leads and their multiple dead ends. Honestly, Nico was pretty attached to Piper’s favored plan of _just wait it out._ It was the safest, and at a certain point, that was Nico’s priority.

But…

“Actually, I—” Nico cleared his throat uncomfortably. “There’s something I could try. Before we—well. If… If you’re interested. If you’re up for it.”

“Yes,” Jason said instantly. “What is it?”

Jason’s instant acceptance made Nico feel a little worse, actually.

Nico, even after all this time, didn’t _love_ telling people about his powers. People like Jason, people like Percy—their powers could turn into party tricks if they wanted them to. Controlling winds or water, you could do that in a way that didn’t scare people. Percy had done that a couple times—stolen the water from someone’s drink, talked to a pet goldfish to tell the owner all about how the fish _really_ felt about their name. Their powers could be fun—like a superhero from Will’s comics.

Even Leo, who got closer to understanding the discomfort of having powers that people feared, could light his finger like a candle and draw in the air with sparks. He had more moments of understanding what it was like for Nico—Frank, after all, had been horrified upon meeting him. Hazel, too, with Frank’s stick in her pocket, had shied away, recognizing the danger in Leo’s powers.

But Nico’s powers were different.

There wasn’t a version of them that could turn into a fun game with a friend. Reanimating skeletons, slinking into shadows, controlling ghosts, invading people’s dreams. Those weren’t the powers of one of the heroes in any of the comics Nico had read—that was the villain. Always.

It was the kind of thing that made Nico feel like he was a kid again, uncomfortable and afraid of judgment.

Nico had tried to be more comfortable with it. He’d managed to, a lot of the time. But it still stung, sometimes, when a new person looked at him with that same fear. He always wanted people to be warned before they knew him— _Nico di Angelo has powers from the Underworld, get ready to pretend he doesn’t freak you out._

Jason used to know what Nico’s powers were. Jason wasn’t afraid of him.

And now? If the way Jason looked at him changed, if he eased away, if he kept his distance…

If he didn’t want to trust Nico, after knowing…

Honestly, Nico felt even more like that teenager at camp, trying to find a place, knowing that he could never fully change the way people saw him. Feeling hopeless, a little lost.

Jason had always felt safe to Nico. Once Nico decided to trust him, there wasn’t really anyone Nico felt _more_ safe with.

And now it felt like he was trying to cross a minefield, like anything he said or did could be the thing that broke this fragile moment.

“I could try to go into your dreams,” Nico offered tentatively.

Jason’s eyes widened, and for a brief second, Nico’s stomach twisted.

“Seriously?” Jason said. “That might work—my dreams have gotten so weird lately, maybe there’s something there. That’s how I’ve started to remember.”

_Oh._ Eyes wide in interest. Not fear.

Nico’s heart beat with abject relief.

“I can’t promise anything,” he said.

“It’s worth a try, though, right? Before going to Akhlys,” Jason replied. “So how does this work?”

Nico took a breath.

“We just… go to sleep.” Nico rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay,” Jason said. “So just… Like before, I’ll take the couch, fall asleep, wait for you to…?”

“It might—” Nico swallowed thickly, feeling deeply, _deeply_ uncomfortable. “It might be easier if you… took my bed. For, um, proximity. I could take the floor, I mean, it’s not—”

Jason looked a little pale, but he hurried to respond, raising a hand. “No, no, that’s not—well, that doesn’t seem _fair,_ I mean… It’s _your_ bed. We can just… We can… both. Sleep there.”

They stood there staring at each other for another few moments, quiet and heavy. Nico blinked first, casting his gaze to the ground and taking a shaky breath.

“Fine. Okay. Fine. Whatever.” He hated, truly, every part of this, but hey, if it helped them _not_ go to the outskirts of Tartarus to talk to Akhlys, it’d be worth it. “It’ll be easier if you fall asleep first, so.”

He gestured vaguely towards his bedroom.

“Oh.” Jason stared at the closed door. “So I just…”

“Mhm.”

“Right. I can… I can do that.”

It looked like Jason was blushing. Nico chose to not think about that, like, even a little bit. It was _not_ worth dwelling on, for more reasons than he had the presence of mind to list.

\---

_Dreams about Jason were a tricky territory for Nico._

_Most of the time, he thought the ones that were good hurt more._

_Because either way, he was waking up into a world where Jason was gone. So the nightmares, those horrifying visions of what could’ve happened to him, the images of Jason’s suffering, his death, his fate, those were a bittersweet relief to escape from._

_It was the good dreams that pierced through Nico’s hard shell of anger, into the hurt. Because waking up from them…_

_He had one dream that kept coming back. It was so simple._

_Just Jason’s smile as they walked down a shore together. Nico didn’t know where they were, just that the sand was warm and the sun was gentle, and the waves were a low, sweet noise in the background of Jason’s laugh._

_Nico could cast shy smiles towards Jason, wondering what he’d ever been so afraid of, and Jason would look at him with a warm fondness that was unmistakable._

_It was perfect—the vision of what Nico wanted. A life where affection between them was simple, was easy._

_That dream…_

_Waking up from it made Nico feel like the world was ending a thousand times over. Waking up from that dream was enough to remind him of exactly why he’d thrown himself into Tartarus trying to get Jason back. Waking up from that dream made Nico certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that he’d never be able to reach any true happiness._

_That dream…_

\---

Nico waited long enough to make some tea, and then for his tea to get cold untouched, before heading into his room.

Jason was fast asleep, breathing soft and steady as he hugged the edge of the bed, close to falling off of it. Nico hesitated for a moment, feeling strange.

Jason looked so unworried. Younger, in a way. Nico had half expected himself to feel some aching pang of familiar longing, but really, he mostly felt sad. Wishing that Jason could have less weighing him down in his life.

And, in addition to that, acutely aware of the fact that they were all _actively_ trying to get Jason’s worst memories back to him.

With a heavy, resigned sigh, Nico gingerly lay down beside Jason, careful to keep as much distance between them as possible.

And he counted his breaths until he managed to fall asleep, pulling his consciousness into Jason’s.

Nico walked through the darkness and emerged.

It was strange—dreams always were, but there was something different here. He didn’t see Jason. It was just a long hallway, with identical doors on either side. He glanced behind him—the darkness was gone, and it was just a wall.

Nico shook off the bit of eeriness he felt—the hallway was too much like a hotel for his taste. He avoided those.

“Jason?” he called out.

The hallway swallowed the sound. There was no one there.

“Jason, why is _your_ subconscious creepy?” Nico muttered to himself, taking a slow step forward. “ _Mine_ is the one that should look like a horror movie waiting to happen.”

Well, there was nothing _else_ to do. Nico tried the first door on his left.

_Huh._

It was locked.

He tried knocking instead.

Nothing.

Well, okay, he didn’t actually think that was going to work.

He turned to try the door on the right instead.

That one opened.

He crossed the threshold, and it was Jason’s dorm room—at the boarding school he’d visited, just the one time, when Jason and Piper had to give up their search for Leo.

Jason was sitting at his desk, hunched over a notebook just like that day, a pen against his lips. He was very still—almost like a statue.

“Jason?” Nico said, uncertain.

And Jason dropped the pen and looked up. He smiled, though there was something guarded in it. Nico’s chest tightened.

“Nico,” Jason greeted, getting to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“You asked me to come,” Nico said slowly. He looked closely—trying to figure out which Jason this was. The one who just met him, or the one he knew before.

“I wasn’t sure you would,” Jason said, like an admission. He reached up to adjust his glasses, to brush back his hair. “After last time.”

This was—

New.

Nico felt a lump in his throat, the lingering suspicion that he knew who this was, _when_ this was, growing. He remembered the last time he saw Jason, before—what he thought was the last time he’d _ever_ see him, those harsh, cutting words, that charged fight because Nico didn’t know how to be friends with someone he was in love with.

This was after that.

Before he could think better of it, before he could remind himself that he was here for a reason, that this was a dream—

“I’m sorry,” Nico blurted out. Unable to hold it back. He’d had an apology for this Jason living on his tongue for years.

Jason blinked, his tentative, guarded smile fading. He didn’t say anything, but Nico saw his expression open more, the walls being taken back. A little relief curled in Nico’s heart—this wasn’t _real,_ not exactly, but it meant something anyway.

Nico had always sort of wondered if he’d broken their friendship forever, when he told Jason to leave that day.

Jason let out a small breath, like a sigh. “Honestly, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Nico stepped further into the room, looking around it. If it was after their fight, then this was the room during Jason’s second semester, but it still looked just moved in to. Everything just a little too neat—like it was waiting for someone to feel at home there.

“Were you happy here?” Nico asked as he looked around, avoiding Jason’s gaze. “I always wondered. I mean. The school. Did you like it, at least?”

“It was alright,” Jason replied. He made a sound that was almost a laugh. “I was alone, though. I was busy with the plans for the temples, and—well, I guess I never really got around to making friends. Piper came by sometimes, but… I don’t know. It was never easy to be alone with her, after everything.”

_Past tense,_ Nico noted. He’d gotten attuned to dealing with ghosts—picking up on whether they knew they were dead, whether they knew where they were. You couldn’t always ask them directly. Sometimes it was safer to talk around the issue.

Glancing back at Jason, Nico noticed the image of him flicker—from that sixteen-year-old to the present-day Jason, a version of him that knew who he was. It remained unsteady, the awareness of who he was present in the room.

“It better have been worth it,” Nico said dryly. He shot Jason a slight smirk. “You know we had plenty of good boarding schools in New York, right?”

To his surprise, Jason shot a smirk back. “Oh, yeah? Maybe you should’ve given me some pamphlets.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “You know something? Piper lives in New York now. Kinda wish she’d just decided to stay, so you could’ve followed her to the city instead, and we wouldn’t _be_ here now.”

“You know I didn’t move back to California _just_ to follow Piper, right?” Jason replied.

Nico walked closer to the bookshelves. It all seemed like schoolwork—this whole room, it was so devoid of the person Nico knew.

“But that was part of it,” Nico said.

“Sure,” Jason agreed. “But look how well that turned out, right?”

Nico glanced at him. “I’ve never known you to be _bitter.”_

Jason smiled. It didn’t look bitter so much as disappointed. “She and I—we wanted something that wasn’t there. It happens.”

“I get that,” Nico said. “Will and I broke up, too.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Jason replied.

Nico dragged a finger across one of the shelves, brushing the spines of the books. “Do you know what happened?” he asked, keeping his voice softer. Hoping the answer is within reach. “To you, I mean. How you got here. Do you know?”

“You know that I don’t,” Jason said.

“It would’ve made it easier if you did,” Nico said. He looked back at the door. Still ajar, he could see the hallway beyond it. Leading into the rest of this strange dreamscape. “Can you leave this room?”

“I haven’t tried.”

Nico sighed. “That’s not promising.”

He didn’t know a lot about memories. He knew more about dreams.

“I should go,” Nico said. “I need to see what else is in here.”

“Come back to say bye before you leave,” Jason replied.

Nico met his eyes, smiling a little. He felt a little hysterical at the ridiculousness of the situation. Talking to an echo of a memory of the guy he’d been in love with. Having a conversation that was years overdue, really.

He should’ve shown up back then. He should’ve apologized.

“This isn’t real. You know that.”

Jason smiled warmly, taking a few slow steps towards Nico. He reached out, hand brushing against Nico’s arm lightly. “I think it could’ve been,” Jason offered. In that moment, he looked more like the version of himself that was stretched out asleep next to Nico.

Nico swallowed, his arm burning. He shifted away from Jason’s hand. He wondered if he was doing this, somehow—influencing the dream with his own wants. He reigned in his emotions. He couldn’t afford to let himself bleed into the dreamscape.

“Bye, Jason. I’ll see you on the other side.”

He walked through the door without looking back.

It slammed behind him on its own.

He checked the next door on the left. Locked.

The next door on the right, unlocked.

Nico liked it when there were patterns. It meant there was something to figure out.

He walked through the door.

And into—

Oh.

The _Argo II._ Jason’s room.

Leo had put so much care into the ship, and Nico had wanted to leave it from the moment he’d arrived. He was fulfilling his promise to Percy, to get them to the Doors of Death, to get Percy and Annabeth out of Tartarus. He was trying to repay the debt he had to these people—they came for him, saved him from the giants, from that jar.

Nico hated promises. He hated owing people anything.

And, much as he loved Hazel—

Nico wanted off that ship more than _anything_ some days. He couldn’t stand the way they looked at him, the way they talked to him. He couldn’t stand _people,_ around him, close enough to feel their warmth. He was angry, too young to understand the level of trauma he’d endured, too alone to know what he needed.

Jason was stretched out on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He sighed.

“I feel like I get hurt every other day here,” he said, his voice low.

“Yeah, that’ll happen on quests,” Nico replied.

“It makes me feel useless,” Jason said.

“You?” Nico said with a slight scoff. “Useless? That’s ridiculous.”

He took a few steps further into the room. It looked so much more like _Jason_ than the room at the boarding school did—Leo clearly wanted everyone’s rooms to _feel_ like theirs. Nico didn’t think he’d noticed much, while he was there. He wondered, absently, how Leo would’ve designed _his_ room.

And what did it say about Jason’s life, that the place that looked the most like his home was in a ship they were on temporarily, to stop the end of the world?

“How am I supposed to help if I just keep getting knocked out in battle?” Jason’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed.

_Present tense,_ Nico noted.

“Isn’t that the point of having a team?” Nico mused back. “So no single person has to carry the weight.”

“I don’t know _how_ to not carry the weight,” Jason said.

Nico’s heart twisted.

He was so _young._ He’d never been able to be just a kid—he was burdened with expectations before he knew how to understand them.

Nico leaned against the wall, not too far from the door. He could feel the way the ship tilted—in the waves or in the air, he wasn’t sure.

“I keep getting hurt, I keep needing to be saved,” Jason continued, his voice dropped to a murmur.

“I needed to be saved from that jar,” Nico said. “It happens.”

Jason opened his eyes and looked over, like he was just realizing who was in the room with him. He pulled himself up with a wince. He hunched over as he sat on the bed, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” Jason said. He sounded tired.

“Where should I be?” Nico asked carefully.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. “With Reyna and Hedge—I thought… You left already.”

“I have the power to enter dreams,” Nico replied. “Didn’t you know that?”

Jason glanced up at him. He smiled a little. “I don’t think I did. You never stop surprising me, di Angelo.”

Nico wasn’t sure what to say. He studied this Jason—exhausted, frustrated, always trying to be the hero.

“You should’ve been one of the seven,” Jason said, half to himself.

Nico let out a breath of laughter. “Grace, I think I’ll be happy if I never have to be at the center of a prophecy.”

Jason grimaced, his eyes flicking away, towards the wall where some photos were pinned up. “Yeah. Some days, I think I’d rather that, too.”

Nico remembered back then, too, thinking that Jason’s gaze always seemed heavy.

Jason looked back at him again, visibly pushing away the uncertainty, the regret. Nico watched him construct a façade of careful resolve. “So what’s up, then? If you’re visiting my dream. Is something wrong?”

“I don’t have a particular reason to be here,” Nico said slowly. “Checking in, maybe.”

Jason cracked a smile, and it looked a little brighter than before. “You just decided to stop by to say hi while I was asleep?”

Nico forced a smile back. “Something like that.”

“Well, uh—thanks, Nico.” A look of relief glimmered in Jason’s eyes.

Nico cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. He looked back at the door.

“Maybe I’ll check out the rest of the ship while I’m here,” he said. “You coming?”

Jason sighed, a thin weariness in it. “I think… I just need to rest.”

Nico glanced at Jason one more time, a twinge of regret in his chest. He’d been a good friend, a good person, and he’d had to carry so much on his own.

He walked back out into the hallway.

And again, the door slammed closed behind him.

He checked the next door on the left more as a formality than anything else. Locked again.

The door on the right opened to Jason’s former room at Camp Jupiter.

The praetor’s quarters.

Nico only knew what they looked like from the times he’d visited Reyna after the war was over. He hadn’t seen her all that often—honestly, she got kind of mad at him when he visited, insisting that he shouldn’t shadowtravel so much. He’d bicker back that it was _fine,_ because it _was._

It was sort of a whole thing. But Nico kind of liked it. It felt like having an older sister, one who _wanted_ to take care of him, in her own way. He didn’t need Reyna looking out for him or protecting him—but it was nice that she wanted to.

Nico had been involved in the politics at Camp Jupiter—He had a strange role there, after bringing Hazel. Ambassador to Pluto. They’d invited him to the senate meetings.

“Ambassador di Angelo,” came Jason’s surprised voice, echoing his thoughts.

Nico turned to look at him. Jason had just stood up from his desk, looking stiff and formal.

Nico nodded respectfully. “Praetor Grace,” he replied.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Jason asked.

Nico glanced around the room again. There was little to indicate that Jason lived there. “I don’t think so,” he replied.

“Um, okay,” Jason said slowly. “Then… What are you doing in here?”

Nico studied Jason’s face for a moment. The wary, professional distance in his gaze. “Looking for you,” he said.

“Well, you found me,” Jason replied.

“Do you know where you are?” Nico asked carefully. At least he didn’t ask him if he knew _who_ he was.

Jason blinked. Stared. “Um. Do you know where _you_ are?” His mouth twitched up. He actually looked a little amused by the question. “These are my quarters, Nico.”

There seemed to be a question in the way Jason tilted his head.

Nico offered a smile.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said, bowing his head slightly before heading for the door.

“Wait, you didn’t—”

Nico didn’t wait for an answer.

The next door opened outside. Nico hesitated, glancing back at the door. He thought it might disappear when he walked through, but it didn’t. It just stayed in the grass, unconnected to the scene.

Nico turned to see the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, standing tall and imposing in front of him. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, staring up at the temple, was little kid Jason. He looked like he might be about eight, but Nico wasn’t sure.

He was curled in on himself, his shoulders trembling slightly.

And yeah, that was a little too much. He couldn’t do any more of this.

Nico backed out the door before he could be noticed.

Getting out of someone’s dream was easier than getting in. You just _want_ to leave—and then you do.

Nico woke up as the sky was just barely getting light. He sighed, closing his eyes again and pressing his head back into his pillow. He could hear Jason’s steady breathing beside him. He’d have to wait until Jason woke up to know for sure, but that hadn’t felt particularly productive. He didn’t know what those doors were, what any of it meant, whether he’d coaxed out any memories.

Nico figured he’d just try to sneak in a few more hours of sleep, squeezing his eyes closed and hoping to not have to deal with any dreams of his own.

Maybe if they were lucky, Jason would wake up with all his memories suddenly back because Nico had opened a couple doors, and they’d be able to drop the idea of going to find Akhlys. If they were lucky, they wouldn’t have to go to the Underworld, wouldn’t even have to _think_ about Tartarus, and they could all celebrate Jason getting his memories back, and then Nico could take off for a little while and try to pull himself together.

If they were lucky.

Of course, when had they _ever_ been lucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, something will happen next chapter.   
> Comments are always appreciated! As always, you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr if you would like!


	9. what you're looking for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It means something to me. That you cared enough to try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you just gotta sneak in your favorite fanfic trope, bc you're the writer and you make the rules.

The sunlight woke Jason up. He had a few moments of confusion, unsure of where he was. It took him a couple groggy breaths to remember the situation.

Right—he was at Nico’s place, they were getting his memory back, they had to go to the Underworld today.

Oh. He was at Nico’s place.

Which…

Jason’s awareness finally caught up with the fact that there was someone pressed into his chest.

And that must be Nico.

Jason’s breathing went unsteady. Okay. Okay, this was fine. He was in Nico’s bed. They were on their sides—they were facing each other. Nico was curled into him, his face buried against Jason’s neck. Nico was breathing slowly and gently, clearly fast asleep.

Jason’s arm was settled around Nico, his hand nestled between Nico’s shoulder blades, pulling him ever closer.

Okay. This was fine.

This was completely fine. It was just a thing that had happened—it would _have_ to be fine. They’d just moved in their sleep. It made sense. It happened; it wasn’t a big deal. It was _fine._

It was so fine. 

His heartbeat had sped up and he squeezed his eyes closed, trying to keep himself from tensing too much, trying to keep his breathing even. He didn’t want to wake Nico up. Nico deserved his rest—he needed it. This was fine. Jason could just keep still and relax, let them both have some extra time before they needed to get up and face what they had to do today.

Who cared that the very fact of _this_ was making Jason’s heart pinch uncomfortably with tragic affection? It didn’t need to be, like, a _thing._ Obviously he’d been in love with Nico before, obviously he still was, maybe he always would be, but it was fine. He could _handle_ it, he could handle these feelings.

He could handle it.

Okay.

He could _not_ handle it, but it was totally _fucking fine._

Nico made a soft, mumbling noise and shifted in his sleep, getting closer. Jason could feel Nico’s breath against his collarbone. He could feel Nico’s _lips_ brushing against his collarbone. Christ. This was a very bizarre circle of hell. A very, very specific kind of torture.

He couldn’t believe that he didn’t even _remember_ falling in love with Nico, but this was hurting so much.

Jason didn’t need to be weird about this. His feelings were his own problem, and this was manageable.

It was fine.

He could hear his own pulse in his ears.

It was possible that this was less fine than he was trying to insist.

In Jason’s defense, it had been many years since he’d experienced emotions that were deep enough to ache. Everything had been watered-down for years—this wasn’t something he was used to.

Tentatively, he rubbed his thumb lightly against Nico’s spine. Nico’s only reaction was to let out a slight, murmuring breath, shifting minutely like he was nuzzling against Jason’s neck.

Jason stopped breathing for a second. He should move, right? Pull away? Do _something?_

Honestly, he didn’t know what to do. He squeezed his eyes tighter. Very slowly, he lifted his arm away from Nico. With strained effort, he started to shift back by the millimeter, hoping to get far enough to roll away without disturbing Nico’s rest.

No such luck.

Nico’s breath hitched as Jason moved, and he flinched away.

“Sorry,” Nico muttered, getting up so fast that Jason half thought he imagined the last five minutes of his life.

“Um—” Jason sat up slowly, blinking, feeling less awake than he had.

“We should get moving anyway,” Nico said. He was refusing to look at Jason, quickly running his hands over his hair in a nervous gesture.

Jason managed to stifle a sigh.

There was so _clearly_ something wrong here, and he just didn’t have the information necessary to understand it. It was going to drive him crazy.

“You’ll tell me what happened between us at some point, right?” Jason asked quietly. Honestly, a little tiredly. He just wanted to know.

“We get your memories back, and I won’t have to,” Nico replied flatly. He stiffened slightly. “And anyway, nothing happened between us.”

That was a slip if Jason had ever heard one. An admission that there was _something._

“Right,” Jason replied. Maybe he’d push it later.

“So I guess the dreams didn’t help?” Nico said, sighing.

Jason shook his head slightly. “I don’t remember anything.” Still.

“Naturally,” Nico said. He headed for the door, not looking back. “Come out when you’re ready.”

He closed the door behind him decisively.

Jason hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

He really got the impression he’d done something wrong, that he had something to apologize for. He’d _love_ to apologize—he just needed to remember why he needed to.

When Jason headed out into the living room, Nico was sitting up at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee, staring down into it and tapping his fingers against the handle.

“Hey,” Jason said, taking a few slow steps towards him.

“There’s more coffee in the pot,” Nico said without looking at him.

“I’m good,” Jason replied. He leaned against the counter, trying to catch Nico’s eye, but Nico seemed intent on avoiding his gaze.

“I’m working on a theory,” Nico said. “Did you dream at all last night?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“Right. Well, anyway, your memories _are_ still in there somewhere,” Nico said. “I found out that much.”

“Sounds like good news.”

“Sure, but it’s a little more complicated than that, I think.” Nico tapped a thumb against the counter, frowning thoughtfully. “There was something strange. Locked doors. I think that maybe, the memories you had are separated out and locked, inaccessible until you’re asleep. Why you’ve gotten some flashes of memories in your dreams lately, maybe—they’re bleeding over now that you have context for them.”

“That’s… interesting,” Jason said slowly. “What does that mean, though? Practically?”

Nico sort of half-shrugged. “This is all new to me,” he said with a tired sigh. “I wouldn’t know how to pull your memories into your waking mind any more than you do.”

Jason hesitated. “Do you think Akhlys will be able to?” he asked.

Nico’s eyes flashed towards him, some heated anger in them. But just as fast, he looked away again, twisting a ring around his finger with slightly shaking hands.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

Jason glanced down at the floor. He wanted to remember, and he really did feel like this was his best bet. But he felt a twinge of guilt, dragging Nico with him. He needed Nico’s help—he _wanted_ Nico’s help. And he wanted to know about… them.

But it made him uneasy, feeling like he’d already done something wrong, and pulling Nico into helping him remember what it was.

He just wished he knew what to apologize _for._

Nico cleared his throat.

“So we need to get _close_ to Tartarus,” he started, his tone all-business. “We head into the Underworld first—we’ll have to avoid the palace, I don’t want to run into my dad down there. And as close to Tartarus as we can get, we do the summoning ritual for Akhlys. Hopefully, she won’t be able to _touch_ us, and you can, I guess, ask her for the favor of giving you back all your worst memories.”

Jason felt a prick of frustration at Nico’s tone. “They can’t all be that bad. I think it was just a domino effect, not that everything about my life was _terrible_.”

It couldn’t have been _nothing_ but pain. Jason felt sure of that at least. There must’ve been good things, too. Just because they were weaved in tightly enough for Achelois to have swept them away too didn’t mean they were worth losing. And either way, everything was worth remembering. Even the things that hurt, even the things that were hard. Jason believed that. 

Nico shrugged, passing for nonchalant. “Who knows. Maybe you were always miserable.” He said it in this flat, empty tone. Avoiding eye contact. Still.

Jason sighed. “It _couldn’t_ have all been bad,” he said softly. “I mean, I had you.”

Nico glanced up sharply, shooting Jason an unreadable look.

Jason felt his face heat up. “All of you. I had… y’know, all of you.” He cleared his throat. “You all seem like… good friends.”

“Right,” Nico said vaguely.

Jason wished he could read minds.

“Well, no point in waiting,” Nico said. He got up and dumped the rest of his coffee into the sink, breezing past Jason towards the door.

Jason followed, helplessly trying to find something he could say, some way he could get Nico to _talk_ to him.

\---

_There was a girl who had the same commute as Jason._

_He’d see her often on his way to school, on the bus, waiting at the corner. She had electric blue eyes and short black hair, with freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. She dressed like she was going to a punk rock concert—studded leather jackets, ripped jeans._

_Something felt familiar about her._

_Jason felt like he’d seen her before—or maybe she reminded him of someone. She always had her chin jutted out, a hard set to her lips. She looked coolly unapproachable._

_But Jason saw her once when there was a dog tied to a pole on the sidewalk, and she crouched down and cooed at it like a little kid, grinning like crazy._

_She looked even more familiar when she smiled._

_Jason wondered sometimes where he knew her from, who she made him think of. But the thoughts were fleeting._

_He never spoke to her._

\---

In the shadows outside of the apartment, Nico offered Jason a hand, and Jason took it without hesitation. In moments, Jason felt like he was freefalling into darkness, the oily shadows wrapping around them in cold, clinging ribbons. He couldn’t quite breathe. Without meaning to, he gripped Nico’s hand tighter.

And then it was over and they were standing in a park. Clouds overhead, all green grass and winding paths.

Jason blinked, confused. He looked around. “This is the Underworld?” he asked.

“No,” Nico replied, sounding just a little amused. “This is Central Park. And that’s the Door of Orpheus.”

Nico pointed. Right through some trees, there was a rounded wooden door covering what looked like a small cavern. The stone archway was lined with climbing vines and flowering weeds clinging to the crevices. Jason took a step towards it.

He could feel… _something._ Maybe it was a cold, shadowy breeze coming from the door. Or maybe he could hear an echo. There was just something there.

He supposed it made sense.

“This is the way in that’s least likely to alert my dad,” Nico explained, stepping forward to stand next to Jason. Jason glanced towards him. There was a tightness around his eyes.

“And we’re trying to avoid him,” Jason said, half a question.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Nico said in answer. “How do you think the Lord of the Underworld feels about that sort of thing?”

Huh. “Right. Sure. Okay. That makes sense.”

Nico turned slightly, meeting Jason’s gaze with something unreadable in his eyes. Jason _really_ wished he could read minds.

Nico didn’t say anything. He just studied Jason’s face for a moment before shaking his head and sighing a little. Jason thought he head him mutter _“I swear—”_ under his breath with slight exasperation, too. But before Jason could ask what he was thinking, Nico started to walk forward, straight to the door, not looking back.

Jason followed. He figured going to the Underworld was dangerous, but it didn’t actually _feel_ dangerous. Certainly not with Nico there to lead him.

They made it about halfway to the door before Nico stopped in his tracks. Jason faltered too, about to ask, when he saw the way the air was shimmering.

“Uh—” he started, but Nico put a hand up to stop him.

After a few seconds, a woman appeared in front of them, arms crossed over her chest, looking at them in exasperation.

Well, mostly looking at _Jason_ in exasperation.

“There’s only _so much_ I can do,” she said, like they’d already been in the middle of a conversation. “I swear, working overtime all these years, and it’s just made you reckless.”

Jason blinked, staring at her. She had sharp gray eyes and curled black hair that was tied back. She seemed vaguely familiar, but Jason couldn’t place her. Go figure. “Sorry?”

“Sorry is right! Just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, gesturing expectantly at the path they were on and towards the door.

“Um—” He was trying to catch up to whatever she was talking about, but he was lost. “Who are you?”

She let out a short sigh. “Abeona,” she said simply, like the name was supposed to mean something.

“I don’t—”

“Goddess of journeys,” Nico said, clearly understanding more than Jason did. “You protect travelers. Watch over journeys away from home.”

“That and more,” Abeona replied, casting the slightest impressed smile Nico’s way.

“Known for guiding children’s first steps,” Nico went on.

“Indeed.” She turned a stern gaze back to Jason. “Though my protection does _not_ cover everything. I mean, honestly, Jason! _Where_ are you going?”

Jason swallowed. He was starting to catch up.

“I—”

“Rhetorical question, dear, I can _obviously_ gather where you’re going. Considering you’re approaching the Door of Orpheus.” She let out a quick sigh, shaking her head slightly. “Jason, your sense of self-preservation leaves something to be desired, did you know that?”

He blinked. Still sort of confused.

“He knows,” Nico said dryly. “Or he _should.”_

Well, that seemed pointed.

“This is—it’s important. It’s worth it,” Jason defended, shooting Nico a sidelong glance.

“Isn’t it always,” Nico replied in a flat tone, keeping his gaze forward on Abeona.

Abeona shook her head again, sighed again. Jason started to realize where he recognized her from. In his memories, she’d been a childhood teacher of his—the teacher who helped him with his homework, who walked him through things that confused him, with a warm smile and an easy, patient voice.

Even now, with the exasperation laced into it, Jason could hear that gentle patience.

“I _know_ you,” he said quietly. He saw Nico turn to him out of the corner of his eye.

Abeona offered a small smile. “I should hope so,” she said, and the false, soft memories clicked into place.

He opted not to bring those up. She wouldn’t remember them anyway—they weren’t real. She’d never actually taught him how to hold a pencil, how to write his name in shaky cursive.

“So you’ve been… looking after me?” Jason said.

Abeona gave a small nod. “Of course. You were so far from home, after all. You needed it.”

Jason didn’t really know what to say.

“Thank you for protecting him,” Nico said, soft and genuine, with a small bow of his head. “All these years.”

Jason looked over at him, a strange sort of surprise in his chest. It wasn’t that he was surprised that Nico was grateful he’d been protected—it was just the level of solemn sincerity in his voice.

Abeona’s expression warmed. “Of course. And thank _you_ for protecting him now, Nico di Angelo.”

Nico’s jaw tightened. “I’ll do my best,” he said evenly.

“I think we both know you’ll do more than that,” Abeona said, her voice gentle.

Before Jason could parse through what _that_ meant, Nico cleared his throat, a little abruptly.

“It would help if you could offer some protection as well,” Nico said. His voice was a little louder than before, something forced in it. He bowed his head to the goddess again.

She bowed her head slightly back. “Of course. Stay on the path, and I will do what I can.”

“We appreciate it,” Nico replied.

She looked away from Nico, turning to shoot Jason a stern look. Jason’s face heated a little. She wasn’t particularly intimidating—really, her eyes still had a welcoming warmth in them, and she reminded Jason of what it was like to feel safe enough to be lulled to sleep. But she also had that teacher-energy, where you didn’t want to disappoint her.

Jason got the distinct impression that he was disappointing her, a little bit. Or at least worrying her, which was close to the same kind of mild shame.

“You make it very difficult,” Abeona said.

“I don’t mean to,” Jason replied.

Abeona let out a small sigh. “Of course you don’t. And yet, here you are, testing the limits of my powers once more.”

“I’m…” He tried to say _sorry,_ but she smiled at him and shook her head.

“You keep me on my toes, Son of Jupiter. What a world we’d live in, if everyone were as brave as you.”

The affection in her tone made Jason feel younger, a little bit. He managed a slightly embarrassed smile under her praise.

Abeona stepped forward until she was right in front of him and placed a palm gently on his cheek.

“Stay on the path,” she said. “I’ll be with you every step.”

\---

_Jason had a neighbor, for a little while._

_She lived across the hall from him. They would run into each other outside sometimes, maybe catch each other’s eye in the local grocery store. She lived in his building for about a year._

_She had these big brown eyes with a knowing glint. She smiled like she could tell how he felt at a glance. She seemed like she could make people feel at ease with her presence alone. She was beautiful, with an understated grace and a contained certainty about her._

_Jason could hear her laughing sometimes—the walls were thin. She’d have friends over and there’d be some chatter and some music, and Jason thought that she had a such a warm, pretty laugh._

_Jason had fleeting thoughts of knocking on her door, striking up a conversation, getting to know her better. Maybe asking her out, maybe not. He never got that far. He just thought about talking to her._

_She seemed like someone he’d like to know better. Really, she felt like she knew him already, like if he reached out to her, she’d be able to tell him who he was._

_The thoughts were never more than in passing, though._

_And eventually, he stopped seeing her in the hallways._

\---

The Underworld was dark.

Jason supposed it shouldn’t be surprising, not really. It was underground. It made sense that it would be dark. The sunlight didn’t reach down here.

But somehow, he was caught off guard by it. It was oddly cold, too, like the depths of a cave. He could hear the sound of water flowing—or… maybe not water. Something. There was a river nearby. Jason couldn’t make it out perfectly, but it didn’t quite look like water.

He followed closely in Nico’s stride, trying to match the ease Nico seemed to have here.

Abeona had called Jason brave, but it seemed an odd compliment to give _him_ when he was next to Nico, really. Nico seemed totally fearless. Contained.

Jason wasn’t the least bit surprised that his younger self would have fallen for him. There was so much about Nico that drew Jason in. He couldn’t help but want to know more—want to _see_ more. Nico was beautiful already, but the way he carried himself was something else entirely.

Jason felt like if only he could get Nico to _talk,_ he’d be able to listen to him for hours.

He really needed to stop thinking about his feelings for Nico. They were getting really distracting, and he didn’t really know how to deal with them. All he could do was push them away, pretend it was fine, make sure not to make it _Nico’s_ problem. He was causing enough issues for Nico as it was.

At least once they got to Akhlys, Jason could remember where all this came from. How they go to this point. It was enough to make him speed up his pace slightly without noticing.

Nico put a hand on his arm to slow him back down. “Don’t hurry. You’ll draw attention to us.”

Jason nodded slightly and Nico pulled his hand away quick, flexing his fingers before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Percy told me—” Jason started slowly. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but when Nico glanced up at him with apprehension, he pressed on. “Percy told me that you and Leo went through a lot for me.”

Nico turned away again. “Percy says a lot of things,” he said flatly.

“I guess I just—wanted to thank you?” Jason tried hesitantly.

“Don’t.”

Jason was startled by the vehemence in Nico’s tone. “Um—”

“We couldn’t find you,” Nico said. His voice was quiet—an ever so slight tremble in it. “We gave up.” 

“But you tried.”

Nico let out a scoff. “It wasn’t good enough.”

“It’s not nothing, Nico,” Jason said. “It means something to me. That you cared enough to _try.”_

A silence stretched as they walked. Jason could hear Nico’s breathing, slightly unsteady.

“Someone had to,” he ended up mumbling.

“Thank you,” Jason said, soft and serious.

Nico angled his head away so Jason couldn’t see his expression.

For a moment, it felt like they’d gotten somewhere.

And then Nico seemed to tense. And he stopped walking abruptly.

“Abeona was right. You have _no_ sense of self preservation, you know that?” he bit out icily.

Jason looked over at him. “Sorry?”

Nico let out a short, stiff laugh. “Yeah, well, you know what, you _should_ be.”

Well, this was… something. Jason had noticed the anger before, but this was a little sudden.

Jason blinked. “Are you… mad at me?”

Nico scoffed, running a hand over his hair and looking up, into the skyless darkness above them.

“No, I’m _furious,_ okay? At everyone! At everyone telling me to give up, at me for listening to them in the end—” He let out a humorless laugh. “Fuck, at _you_ for dying. You left me. You left me _again,_ and it _sucked,_ and you weren’t supposed to just… We weren’t _done_ yet.”

“I’m here now,” Jason offered softly.

“Maybe it’s too late,” Nico replied, an edge in it. “The damage was done, Grace.”

Jason took a step towards him, reaching a hand out like he was going to touch Nico’s arm. He stopped short. It felt familiar.

“It _can’t_ be too late,” Jason said.

“You don’t _get_ to decide that, actually,” Nico snapped. “You know, Jason, it’s great that you _appreciate_ what Leo and I did, but we shouldn’t have _had_ to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you should’ve _cared!”_

“Cared? Nico, I—” 

“We shouldn’t have _had_ to go through—through _Tartarus_ looking for you. You… You _knew._ You knew you were going to die, and you didn’t care, you just went anyway. And Leucothea said that you prayed for her to save your friends, and not _you_. You’re just _always_ putting yourself in danger, and you act like it’s just _your_ decision, but it _isn’t._ You getting yourself hurt doesn’t just hurt you, and you should _know_ that, but you just—”

Nico cut himself off, clenching his jaw. Jason stared at him, blinking, a little alarmed. He didn’t know where to start, really. He didn’t _remember_ walking into his own death, but the sad thing was that it didn’t surprise him. Like so many other things he’d learned, it just made sense to him. Of course. Of course that was the way it went.

That sounded right.

But he hadn’t known that Nico and Leo—

“Nico,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Nico cast him a sharp look. “Like _that’s_ good enough,” he said, his voice low.

Before Jason could say anything else, Nico started walking again, briskly moving farther from Jason, his arms wrapped around himself protectively.

Jason hesitated, watching Nico with a heavy heart. When he remembered—

When he remembered, he’d apologize.

He didn’t know what he’d put Nico through.

He caught up to Nico again, falling back into step next to him. Nico let out a small huff of breath, slowing down again to a steady pace, like they were just strolling somewhere casually.

“I don’t mean to—” Nico started quietly, but he cut off. He sighed. “Look, we just have to…”

“Yeah,” Jason replied. They had something to do.

All of this, whatever it was, it could wait.

\---

_There was a guy in one of Jason’s classes._

_Elfish ears, a cunning grin. Quick wit._

_He always had a snarky comment in class, his hands were always moving a mile a minute. Jason never talked to him, but he always noticed when the guy was absent. The room seemed so much emptier without his chattering, without his jokes, without his laughter. He brought light into the room._

_He was smart, too, this guy. When he wasn’t goofing off or bantering with the teacher, he was answering questions with a crisp, surprising intelligence. He knew what he was talking about—you could always tell that he was on top of the conversation._

_Jason never talked to him. But he noticed him._

_There was something about him that felt strangely familiar. Maybe in another life, Jason would’ve approached him, tried to become friends. Maybe if Jason hadn’t felt like he was floating four feet above the classroom, he would’ve made an effort to know the guy._

_They could’ve been friends. Jason felt like they would’ve been._

_After that one semester, Jason never saw him again._

\---

They’d been walking in silence. Jason kept wanting to ask Nico how close they were, or how he knew where they needed to go, or why this seemed so _easy._ He thought there must be at least some danger, but the worst part so far was just a vague sense of unease and the growing darkness.

Anytime Jason tried to speak, though, the words died on his tongue when he glanced at Nico. Nico kept his gaze straight ahead, narrowed into the distance, his jaw clenched. He looked like he was simmering with… something.

Anger? Probably still anger. He had seemed really mad at Jason. His words were echoing in Jason’s mind.

Jason figured it was probably sort of annoying to be harboring a grudge towards someone who didn’t even remember what he’d done wrong. He felt guilty, but that didn’t really mean anything when he didn’t know _how_ to feel guilty for something he didn’t remember doing.

He thought maybe he was supposed to feel guilty for knowing he was going to die and not doing anything to stop it.

Although, honestly, he probably _didn’t_ feel all that guilty for that, actually. Sure, he felt bad about how it had impacted Nico, but the act of putting himself in harm’s way, knowing it wouldn’t end well for him, in order to help someone else?

Well, how could Jason regret that? It seemed like the right decision. It seemed like the _only_ decision.

He was just quietly circling through these thoughts when something happened.

With a sharp, quiet inhale, Jason stopped walking. Nico turned, questioningly.

It was just a flash of an image. Strange, warped circus-like atmosphere. And a young Nico collapsed on the floor, barely breathing.

It was startling. Nico was so much smaller, pale and gaunt. He looked _dead._ It made Jason’s heart press against his ribs, like it was trying to reach out to Nico to prove that he’d recovered from whatever _that_ had been.

“Jason?” Nico prompted, startling Jason back.

Jason realized his hand was hovering in the air in front of him, like he’d been trying to reach into the vision.

The _memory._ It was too vivid, too visceral, to not be a memory.

He didn’t have a chance to feel any sort of victory over the idea that he’d gotten a real memory while he was awake. It was such a painful, heart-wrenching vision that he couldn’t possibly feel anything but sick over it.

“Jason,” Nico said again, a little more urgently. He’d stepped closer, studying Jason’s face with some concern.

“Sorry, I—sorry…” Jason said, his voice a little breathless. “Sorry, I… think I remembered—”

He cut himself off. How the _hell_ could he describe that? What could he say? How could he ask?

He tried to push through the emotions swelling in his throat.

“I remember—” Jason pushed his glasses up his nose and then ran his fingers through his hair. His hand was shaking. “Just an image, really. God, you were just a kid.”

Nico swallowed. He looked uneasy.

“So were you,” he said, a cautious edge in his tone.

Jason shook his head, blinking a few times and casting his gaze downward. “That image… What _happened_ to you?”

He met Nico’s gaze.

God… _Nico._

He was looking back at Jason with this wary expression. He looked so different from that half-dead kid. Color in his olive skin, the faintest sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Clear, _alive_ eyes, with some degree of hard certainty in them.

The image was sticking in Jason’s mind like a splinter. How had Nico survived? How was he _okay?_

“That question doesn’t have one answer,” Nico said finally, after a couple steady breaths.

His tone was so even, and it made Jason feel like his chest was cracking open.

There must’ve been comparable horrors in Nico’s life, if he didn’t know _exactly_ what Jason was asking about.

And how _heartbreaking_ was that?

Jason had to take a minute before he could really breathe again.

Maybe there were memories Nico wished he’d forgotten. Maybe he’d be better off without them. Maybe that was why he’d been so adamant about giving Jason the choice to forget.

“It was a long time ago,” Nico offered like it was a consolation.

“Yeah,” Jason said, his voice quiet. His initial alarm, that hurt that was pulling at his chest, began to soften into a dull kind of regret. He felt like he’d lost something, but he wasn’t sure what.

He wished, distantly, that he’d been able to protect Nico back then.

Without really meaning to, he studied present-day Nico, searching for signs of that kid from the memory. He caught some faded scars on Nico’s cheek, tracing down the side of his neck. The flinty, defensive glint that never really left his gaze.

Jason wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Either Nico had somehow managed to recover from everything he’d gone through, or he was beyond good at hiding his hurt.

Jason would never have been able to guess that he’d suffered so much.

“You’re different,” Jason said softly.

“I grew up,” Nico replied.

“I think—” Jason started, his voice trembling just a little— “I’m sorry I missed it.”

Nico blinked, staring back like he was surprised. Some of the hardness in his gaze faded away and there was a charged energy between them.

Jason realized how close they were standing, and Nico seemed to lean towards him. For a strange, disconnected moment, Jason thought they might kiss.

The thick air broke and Nico cleared his throat, stepping away.

“If you’re getting flashes of memory like _that,_ we’re probably getting close,” he said in a professionally distant tone. “We should keep moving forward.”

\---

_There was a girl who worked at the campus library with Jason._

_They never had the same shift—she was usually heading home right when he got in, and they only interacted enough for her to hand over the keys to him._

_She was poised, with a solemn, steady gaze. She wore her hair in a long braid down her back and Jason only rarely saw her smile. She always stood up straight—like her shoulders could carry anything, like she knew exactly what she was doing._

_Jason felt like he admired her—he didn’t even know her, but there was something about her that was so easy to look up to. When she did smile, it was like she held a secret in the corner of her mouth, like she’d promised to tell you one day how to be brave and strong and steady._

_She seemed so sure of herself. So capable. Jason thought he’d try to talk to her, if they ever did share a shift. He thought he’d like to ask her about what she was studying, ask her if she liked her life, ask her if she really was as confident as she seemed._

_He wished he could be that sure of himself._

_He never did get the chance to talk to her. They never ended up working the same shift._

\---

Well, it couldn’t be easy forever.

Jason got a couple more flashes of memory as they walked.

Nothing clear. Nothing that told him anything. Just things that hurt to look at.

An image of wolf teeth, snapping towards him. A sword at his throat, pressing against it, the sensation of it bleeding into the present. A woman smiling down coldly at him, with vague, unemotional interest, like he was a tool she might want to use. Friends hurt, friends in danger. Cruel laughter and sharp pain.

It slowed him down, stopping him in his tracks each time it happened.

“If you need to take a break—” Nico said at a certain point, furrowed brow like he was worried.

“I’m fine, just—give me a second,” Jason said, a little breathless.

“We’re getting close to the entrance,” Nico said. He looked away, back towards the path. “We should be there soon.”

“The entrance…”

“We need to be as close as possible. Be careful that Tartarus doesn’t pull you in.” Nico was speaking with such a collected tone. There was no fear in his gaze, not that Jason could see. Just hard, stubborn determination.

Jason looked down the path. He felt a tingling dread at the back of his neck. Something down that way was trying to coax him in, he could feel it.

“Maybe we just take a small break,” he said slowly, still staring into the darkness ahead. “Before we…”

“Sure,” Nico said. He slipped his sword from his shoulder, leaning it against his leg as he sat down on a rock.

Jason followed his lead, making sure to keep a safe distance between them.

He pulled his coin out of his pocket, rubbing his thumb against it. It buzzed comfortingly against the pad of his finger. _Julius,_ Reyna had called it.

He absent-mindedly flipped it, catching it in his palm. He repeated the gesture a few times.

“You have to ask it,” Nico said.

Jason glanced at him, confused. “Ask it?”

“It turns into a weapon, but only when you flip it with intention.” Nico gestured. “Try it.”

Jason knew it was a weapon, but he hadn’t really thought about how to make it turn into one. He’d just been flipping it for something to do with his hands.

He flipped it again, with intention. He reached his hand out rather than leaving his open palm and he caught a large golden sword.

It only surprised him for a moment, and then it felt completely natural in his hand, if just a little unfamiliar. Like it had been a really long time, but he knew exactly what he was doing.

Suddenly, Nico lunged at him with his iron sword, swinging it widely.

On instinct, Jason blocked it with Julius, feel the slam of metal all the way up his arm.

“Dude, what the hell?” Jason said, but as he met Nico’s gaze and saw the amusement there, he laughed a little.

Nico pulled away again and shrugged, looking like he was suppressing a grin. “Just wanted to know if you still had it,” he said. “Keep you on your toes.”

Jason scoffed. “You could’ve warned me.”

“Totally would’ve defeated the purpose.”

Jason flicked Julius back into his coin form. He rolled the coin over his fingers.

Nico let out a long sigh, and Jason looked over at him curiously.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you before,” Nico said slowly. He ran a hand through his hair. He looked a little calmer here, like this, while they were alone in this place. Jason wasn’t sure what to make of that. “You don’t… You don’t even remember, so it’s not fair to… I’m just sorry, alright?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jason said gently. “Sounds like you have valid reason to be mad. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too.”

Nico shot him a glance, a slightly hesitant smile on his lips. “I _am_ really glad you’re back,” he said, his voice quiet.

Jason smiled. “Me too.”

\---

_At the coffeeshop near Jason’s apartment, there was a barista._

_He had a dry sense of humor. He had this secret, hidden smile, like he was trying to cover up anything that could read as a positive emotion. On rare occasions when he laughed, usually at a comment from his coworkers, Jason heard the sound for days._

_Jason thought of asking him out once or twice, in passing. Never too seriously. He just sort of turned the concept over in his mind, imagined it a little. But he never even got close to trying._

_He never really remembered the guy’s name anyway._

_He mostly remembered that strange sadness that seemed to permanently linger in his gaze._

_Jason felt like he knew something about that._

_He wasn’t sure how long the guy worked there. He just knew that one day, he wasn’t there anymore._

_Jason sort of wished he’d at least gotten his name._

\---

Jason could feel the malevolence emanating from the void in front of them.

Nico stepped forward, letting out a short, terse breath. “This is where we do it,” he said grimly.

Jason felt like he could hear strange whispers from the void—like echoes of soft laughter, some gentle singing, a couple childlike squeals of excitement. It was almost worse that the noises were all so positive, rather than the chilling screams Jason might’ve expected.

It was eerie, hearing laughter and singing like this place wasn’t coated in dark, twisting _tangible_ anger.

Jason wanted to step away from it.

Nico glanced over at him. “It’s okay to be scared,” Nico said, surprisingly gentle.

Jason shook his head. He was afraid. He couldn’t be. It wasn’t allowed—fear wasn’t an option, he knew that, it never was.

He didn’t know where that came from. He didn’t remember. But he knew it. Like the knowledge that fear was unacceptable was built into the baseline of who he was as person.

“I’m fine,” Jason said, his voice as steady as ever.

Nico studied his face skeptically but offered a slight shrug.

He pulled a small vial out of his pocket, pouring its contents out on the rock in front of him. The liquid splashed over it.

“What—”

“Rat poison,” Nico said.

“Um—”

“Akhlys is the goddess of misery and _poison,”_ Nico said. “We have to cover both.”

“Right. Okay. Sure.” Jason blinked, looking down at the liquid dripping down the stone. It seemed so much more sinister somehow.

Nico took a shaky breath. “And you don’t have any bad memories,” he muttered, half to himself. “So this is all me.”

Nico stepped forward, closing his eyes.

And he began to tell a story. In a soft, even tone—simple words, just laying out the facts of it without attaching the emotion.

Jason watched, listening intently. Amazed at how Nico could keep his voice so steady even as his hands shook.

He talked about when he was ten years old, no family except a sister. Bianca. He talked about how she was all he had, how she looked out for him, how he knew he would’ve been so lost without her there to guide him. She was his favorite person, the only person he loved for all his memories at that point in his life.

And she knew about him. The parts of him that he thought were too hard to say, the secrets he held close to his chest, how he loved too deeply, how he hurt so much, how everything overwhelmed him, even then. She knew, and she accepted him. More, she loved him. She protected him. 

And he trusted her more than anyone, but she still left him. She left him when she chose to join Artemis, leaving him alone in the Hermes cabin at Camp Half-Blood, not knowing anyone, barely knowing who he was, not knowing how to make friends. He was always too much for people, and she knew that, and she still _left him,_ and he thought he’d never stop being mad at her for that.

But that wasn’t the end of it. He was so mad at her—this ten-year-old kid, who had no clue what he was doing, who was so lost and so alone. He was so mad at his sister, because how could she just decide to be _done_ being his sister like that? How could she choose a new family and leave him alone? How could she abandon him, without even turning back? He didn’t _understand_ it, and she never got the chance to explain.

Because. Because.

Because the boy that Nico liked—the boy who’d saved him, who’d shown up for him and made promises to him, the boy who was startling and beautiful and brave—he came back one day with a grim expression and a mouth full of apologies, and told Nico that Bianca had died.

She left him a second time. And Nico hadn’t forgiven her, but now he’d never get the chance, and she was his _family,_ his entire family, and he had no one else anymore. No one had protected her, and no one had protected him, and he was _alone._ He was alone, and he was lost, and he didn’t know who he was or where to go. And the only person he’d trusted had abandoned him, and then she was gone forever.

And that was the beginning of who Nico became.

Jason could hear his own pulse rising as he listened to Nico talk. He told the story like he’d told it before, like it was endlessly familiar to him. Without stumbling over words, without his voice cracked or strained. This was just his background, as simple as asking someone were they came from, where they were born.

When Nico finished, his eyes fluttered open again. The poison had begun to dry on the rock, not dripping anymore.

Jason wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next, but he held his breath for a few frozen seconds.

Nothing. Nothing happened.

Jason looked at Nico, trying to gauge what they’d been expecting to come of this.

Nico’s jaw clenched and he let out a shaky breath.

“She’s not coming,” he said, in a flat, frustrated tone. He didn’t look at Jason. “It didn’t work.”

“Oh,” Jason said, and his voice cracked a little. “What—what now, then?”

Nico glanced over at him, a shade of panic in his gaze. Jason opened his mouth to say something—he wasn’t even sure what. Before he could make a sound, Nico grabbed his wrist and dragged him into a shadow, with alarming urgency.

\---

_That’s how Jason’s life was._

_Bits and pieces of missed connections, almosts. Familiar faces, moments of recognition that were all too temporary. There was always something. Some person, some thought, some memory. It lingered in the background, like white noise you couldn’t quite place._

_Jason had been trying to find it for a long time. He’d been trying to grasp what he’d lost, without knowing he’d lost anything to begin with._

_He never knew what any of it meant. He never really knew that it meant anything at all._

_But he felt it._

_Something lingering, something fleeting._

_He tried to catch it, but how could he have?_

_He was alone, and a little lost, and more than a little empty at times. There was something so hollow in his life, and he wouldn’t have known the first thing about fixing that._

_It was too hard to try sometimes. Too hard to put the focus in, the effort. It took drive to figure out who you were, and Jason was floating._

_He never managed to reach what he was looking for, not through the fog._

\---

They reappeared in what Jason could only assume was the Underworld palace, given the ornate decoration and high ceilings.

He put a hand on Nico’s shoulder, steadying himself from the shock of shadowtravel, taking a few deep breaths.

Taking a look around, he noticed they were in a bedroom. Large, with a giant bed in the center. The walls were obsidian black, carvings of leaves and vines circling around. It looked like what Jason might’ve imagined a vampire’s castle looked like.

There were only a few things that felt different—there was a desk against one wall, large and mahogany and ornate. And slung across the chair was a plain black hoodie. Tucked underneath the desk was a few small cardboard boxes.

“Aren’t we avoiding your dad?” Jason said suddenly, finally catching up to where they were.

“He never comes in my room,” Nico replied, but he still sounded nervous. “It’ll… It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Jason said. He noticed his hand was still on Nico’s shoulder and pulled it away sheepishly. “So, uh… Why are we here?”

Nico took a breath. “She didn’t come when we summoned,” he said slowly. “Which means our other option for finding her is going into Tartarus.”

“So why didn’t we—”

“Because I need a minute, okay? I can’t just—”

He sounded a little panicked, breathless and shaking hands, so Jason put his hands up in surrender. A pang of bitter guilt hit Jason in the chest. _This might not be worth it._

“Sure, no, that’s fine. I didn’t mean…”

He trailed off.

He watched Nico catch his breath, watched him straighten back up, watched him brush the panic from his expression. In a few minutes, he was contained and fearless again. Or at least, that’s how he seemed.

“We can—” Nico started.

“Wait,” Jason said.

He didn’t really mean to, but something was occurring to him and he just wanted to—

Jason paused. It took him a moment to get the words out. “Did I know all that?” he asked softly. “About you? About your sister?”

Nico let out a quiet sigh. He met Jason’s gaze fleetingly, barely letting their eyes connect. Jason still counted it as a win.

“Yes,” Nico said. “You knew… a lot. About me. More than almost anyone else.”

“Oh.”

“Mm.”

Jason looked down at his hands before looking at Nico again. “So. Just sort of friends, then, huh?”

Nico’s lips actually twitched up in a slight smile. “I might have played down our friendship. But we weren’t on the best terms when you died.”

Was Nico actually going to _tell_ him things now? Jason swallowed, trying to hold back from pushing too hard. If Nico was willingly offering information, Jason wanted to hear it desperately. He couldn’t afford to say something that would shut Nico down again.

“That’s really sad,” he ended up saying.

Nico didn’t reply for a few moments. “Yeah,” he agreed. 

“That’s what happened with Bianca, too,” Jason said softly.

Nico sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck a little, his eyes flitting towards the ceiling. “Except with her, I was mad because of something she did. With us, it was my fault.”

“Your fault,” Jason echoed. “I was mad at you?”

Nico _actually_ smiled at that. A little sadly, but it was a genuine smile. “No. You weren’t.”

That didn’t quite clear anything up, but the affection laced into Nico’s tone made Jason’s chest tighten.

“Were we ever…” Jason cleared his throat. He could word this without laying all his cards out. “I mean, did we ever… date? Or something?”

Nico turned sharply, a strange look in his eye. “Uh, no?” he said, his confusion rising to something like alarm. “No. Never. I mean, we couldn’t. You’re straight.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, letting out a small, breathy scoff.

So he was closeted, in this other life of his.

“I’m definitely not,” he replied.

“Um. What?” Nico’s voice developed an edge. Not quite anger—indignance.

In spite of the situation, Jason found himself smirking slightly at Nico’s shock. Honestly, the fact that this was news to anyone was a little amusing to him.

“I guess I never told you that I’m bisexual,” Jason said, the words coming easily. In his false, sugar-coated memories, he’d come out in high school. It had never been a big deal or anything—it was just sort of a fact of his life. As an undergrad, he had a little bi pride flag pin on his bag.

“You—uh. You did _not._ You didn’t tell… anyone.” Nico blinked, like he wasn’t comprehending what was happening. “Since _when?”_

“My whole life?” Jason replied.

“I—” Nico stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed. “I mean, are you _sure?”_

He didn’t sound judgmental at least—he sounded genuinely confused. Like this was completely beyond anything he would’ve begun to expect.

Jason let out a small laugh. “Yeah, man, I’m sure.”

“Right, uh—right. Sorry, I…” Nico’s voice was going quieter.

So: development.

This meant that Jason, in that previous life, had most certainly _not_ told Nico about his feelings. Whatever had happened between them, it hadn’t had anything to do with that. That was a relief, at least.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me?” Nico asked. His brow was furrowed, and he was looking at Jason fully now, with those wide brown eyes. He looked less guarded than he had before, like he was too preoccupied with the surprise to remember his walls.

He also, strangely, looked afraid. Maybe guilty. He ran his tongue nervously over his lower lip, blinking. He seemed to genuinely want an answer. Something to explain what didn’t make sense to him.

Jason forced a smile.

“I don’t know, Nico,” he said gently. “I don’t remember.”

“I never—I mean, I didn’t—” Nico cut off. He pressed his lips together. He glanced at the ground, less like he was avoiding eye contact, more like he was puzzling through things in his mind. “You trusted me.”

He said it almost like a question.

“I’m sure I did,” Jason replied. “But it’s not always that simple.”

Nico tensed a little. “I _know_ that,” he replied sharply.

_Oh._

Oh. Okay.

That was another development.

And it settled in him like some of the other things he’d learned—clicking into place. Like _oh, of course._ It made sense. He knew it was real.

Suddenly, Jason got the impression that it was _possible_ his affections had been returned, actually. It was possible he just hadn’t known that, and had chosen to not tell Nico his feelings or his sexuality in order to keep it locked away.

It was possible, too, that Nico had similarly avoided stating his feelings, because he’d been so certain the Jason was straight.

Jason was grateful, for a moment, to have lost his memories. It meant he didn’t have the tangled emotional baggage that would prevent him from seeing this situation clearly.

What he knew was that he loved Nico. He didn’t remember falling for him, but he had, and he’d probably loved Nico for a really long time.

And it seemed genuinely possible, now, that Nico had loved him, too. Maybe he’d been avoiding Jason to get over him, because he was sure Jason would never be able to love him back.

And neither of them knew, and neither of them had any intention of telling the other.

How fucking _tragic_ for Jason to have died in the middle of that.

“So why weren’t you talking to me?” Jason asked, trying for casual. “When I died. We must’ve been good friends, right? What happened?”

Nico bit at his lower lip. “It’s complicated,” he said.

Jason studied the nervous twitch of Nico’s hands, his downcast eyes. Yeah. Jason was pretty sure the feelings had been mutual. Maybe even that they still were. He had probably been too clouded by memories, by external emotions, to see it back then.

But now?

All he had was what he felt, what he knew.

He couldn’t say anything until he’d gotten his memories back, but at least he knew.

“So what now?” Jason asked.

He was sort of itching to get this over with. He wanted to remember.

“Well, we—” Nico trailed off, his eyes growing thoughtful.

Jason followed his gaze to one of the boxes under the desk.

“Actually,” Nico said, a little faintly. “Maybe there’s something else we could try.”

“Oh?”

“Tangible memories. Objects can have a pretty big impact on remembrance. Who knows? Maybe it’ll spark something.” Nico took a few hesitant steps towards the desk before pausing. “Just… don’t be weird about the fact that I still have these. We were close at one point, okay?”

Briskly, Nico headed toward the desk, leaning down to grab one of the boxes. He opened it and pulled out a small stack of cards before going to sit on the bed, gesturing for Jason to join.

Jason sat next to him. Nico shifted a little further away from him, putting the stack of cards down between them. He pulled up a leg, bringing it to his chest and curling inward, keeping his gaze on the floor.

“Can I—” Jason asked quietly.

“It’s why I brought them out,” Nico mumbled into his knee.

Delicately, Jason picked up the cards. And he began to flip through them.

They were worn at the edges, a few of them folded down the middle. The corners were torn on a few of them, too. They looked like they’d been touched and held and pinned up several times before getting stored away in this box in the Underworld. There were places on some of them with creases that looked like they’d been clutched too tightly, a couple spots that looked like dried water droplets.

A little distantly, Jason wondered if leaving them here was a matter of convenience, just a place to store them, or if it was deliberate. If maybe, in Nico’s grieving process, he’d taken these things that reminded him too much of Jason and put them in the place where dead things went to rest.

Regardless, Jason got the impression the postcards hadn’t been touched in a while.

He started to read them.

They were short, obviously missing a lot of context that he didn’t fully have. But he knew enough to follow—he remembered being told about Leo’s death, though he didn’t know he and Piper went looking.

There were details, too, in the words, that made Jason sound frustrated with his life.

_…it just feels like there’s always some mission we need to complete—_

_I guess I had to try, right?_

Some underlying, masked bitterness about the unfairness of being a demigod.

_Maybe—_

_—the world won’t be ending anymore, and we’ll all get to catch a break—_

_Side effect of being a demigod is that we don’t have a lot of happy memories to share—_

And, of course, there were also some moments that revealed hints of his feelings for Nico.

_I’ll really try to get to Camp Half-Blood before school—_

_Missing you—_

_I wish you were here—_

_I wish we could go somewhere together without there being a quest at all—_

_Come visit when you can?_

Jason lingered over one section in particular. Written in his own handwriting, a version of him he didn’t know, that he didn’t remember being.

_I don’t have all my memories back yet, I don’t think. I’d like them all back. It feels like a part of me is still missing, and I can’t really figure it out._

“Anything?” Nico said softly.

Jason swallowed. He wanted his memories back. Enough that it was hard to breathe. How was he supposed to live with knowing so little about himself?

“Not quite,” Jason said, his voice a little distant as he traced the words with his fingertips. “Just… a feeling, I guess.”

“A feeling?” Nico prompted.

“So much of me is missing, Nico,” Jason said. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Hey,” Nico said, softer than Jason had heard him before. He reached out, touching Jason’s arm with his fingers, featherlight. “You’re still you.”

“Am I?” Jason felt himself wanting to laugh. “How could I know? How could I know the difference?”

“Trust me, you’re still you. Maybe you don’t know the difference, but I do.” He snorted, gesturing vaguely. “I mean, this whole situation? You stubbornly putting yourself in danger yet again, refusing to be afraid of it? So typical, Grace. You’ve got no idea.”

“I mean, I _really_ don’t have any idea,” Jason said.

Nico rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Look, you want your memories back. I get it. I… I would, too, if I’m being honest. But your memories aren’t the only thing that makes you who are.”

“If it’s not my memories, then what does?” Jason said. “How am I supposed to know who I’m supposed to be?”

Nico let out a soft sigh. He shifted towards Jason a little bit, turning to look at him. Jason finally tore his eyes away from the postcard to meet Nico’s gaze.

His eyes were kind. Patient. He offered a small, sad smile.

“What a question, Grace,” he said, some dry irony in his tone. “Who you’re _supposed_ to be. If I weren’t already sure about who you are, that question would do it.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

“You were always doing that. Trying to make sure you fit what everyone expected from you. It was sort of how we became friends. You said… you said you didn’t have to be anyone else around me.” Nico’s gaze flickered away and his smile faltered. He leaned back a little, bracing himself with one arm. “You’re not _supposed_ to be anyone, Jason. You’re you. That’s enough. And even if this doesn’t work, even if we can’t find a way to get your memories back, you’ll still be who you are. Patient and stubborn and persistent and generous. Too selfless for your own good, smart enough to know something is dangerous and reckless enough to do it anyway. Impossible to argue with, impossible to stay mad at. Refusing to give up on anyone. _That’s_ who you are. Whatever memories you have, that doesn’t change.”

Jason studied Nico’s face, the sincerity in his warm eyes. The way his voice was gentle and honest as he talked.

It felt like they really were something. Like they might’ve been.

Like they still could be.

“That’s quite a speech,” Jason said.

“Yeah, well. I’ve been known to step up when it’s needed.” Nico shot another smile, a genuine one, without that stubborn underlying sadness that had been stuck to it before.

And then it faded again and he sighed, shifting away.

“Don’t get used to it, though,” Nico said. “I can’t _wait_ to get mad at you when you do remember.”

“Looking forward to being yelled at, I guess,” Jason said, his tone light.

Nico let out a small breath of laughter. “You used to be afraid of me.”

“Of _you?”_ Jason said.

“Sort of everyone was,” Nico said, a little fainter. “That was a long time ago, though, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine being scared of you,” Jason replied honestly.

Nico smiled at him, but it looked a little forced. “Sounds like a challenge, Grace,” he said, but the joking tone fell flat.

Jason wasn’t sure exactly what was happening here. But he got the sense that there was something important. Something he didn’t know.

He just shook his head. “I trust you,” he said.

Nico let out another small laugh, raising his eyebrows and looking down. “Yeah,” he said, half to himself. “You’re Jason Grace, alright.”

Yeah. There was something here. But it slipped through Jason’s fingers when he reached for it, disappearing like smoke before he really got the chance to look at it. A spike of frustration hit his chest.

 _Washed away his pain._ Did something here hurt?

How would Jason know?

Nico stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Well. Let’s go.”

“Go?” Jason echoed, still a little preoccupied with the conversation.

“To Tartarus,” Nico said with a heavy sigh. He turned to look at Jason, a steely, grim determination in his eyes. “Let’s get your memories back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: next chapter will be a little different. I am sorry for dragging this out, but unfortunately, I am addicted to rising tension and cannot stop.  
> As always: comments are much appreciated, and you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr, if you like!


	10. meanwhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you ever wonder? Who we were without him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's check in on everyone else, shall we?

They’d sort of broken off into smaller groups. Frank, Reyna, and Hazel were off using their former-praetor privileges to look at the resources Camp Jupiter had, see if they could pick up any leads from there. Reyna had also mentioned something about stopping by Juno’s shrine on Temple Hill.

Meanwhile, Annabeth and Percy had gone to the New Rome library, with Annabeth talking about how she’d _sworn_ she’d seen some literature on the Lethe that might be helpful. Thalia had tagged along with them, she and Annabeth still catching up.

Which left Leo and Piper in the living room, just the two of them, flipping through the books that Annabeth already had on the shelves.

Leo was squirming, a little impatient and agitated and uncomfortable. He couldn’t focus at all. He had a hard enough time with the small print in these books, and he couldn’t sit still, and being alone with Piper for the first time in ages was making him desperate to _talk._

If only he knew where to start.

She was flipping through pages casually, seeming totally at ease, oblivious to the mild meltdown Leo was having next to her.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Leo blurted out, slamming the book he’d been pretending to read shut. What exactly “this” referred to was probably up for debate. He couldn’t sit here reading anymore, he couldn’t keep biting his tongue, he couldn’t keep distancing from Piper like they weren’t friends, he couldn’t hold back his freak-out.

Piper glanced up. “Need a break?” she asked.

“Desperately,” he replied, relieved.

She smiled. “What do you have in mind?”

“You hungry? I’m sure Percy and Annabeth have enough food for me to scrape something together.”

Piper’s expression brightened. “Sounds great. I’ve missed your cooking.”

Great. Cool. Leo could do this. Cooking was good—it calmed him, it gave him something to do with his hands. It was a comfort, something familiar and easy. Something that reminded him of the basics of life, pulling him down from his upward spirals about the larger implications of, well, everything.

Leo was never good at keeping his mind under control. Cooking helped pull his focus.

He jumped up, just a little over-excited. “Chef Leo, at your service,” he said with a little bow. “What’re you craving, Beauty Queen?”

Piper’s gaze went a little soft with nostalgia. “Remember those tacos you made us on our first quest together?” she said.

Leo chest tightened. He grinned. “I sure do. The true beginning of our little trio, that trip was.”

“Well, there was—” Piper started to say, but cut off abruptly.

Yeah, there _was._ The Wilderness School. Except _that wasn’t real._

“Tacos it is!” Leo said, a little too loud. “God, I hope Annabeth’s the kind of white person who allows real spices in her kitchen.”

Piper snorted. “Have you met Sally Jackson? No way she’d let Percy live without seasoning.”

“Fair point,” Leo said. He offered his hand with a little flourish. “Care to join me?”

“Watch Chef Valdez at work?” Piper said with faux surprise. She took his hand. “Why, I’d be honored.”

Leo led her into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for her at the table.

She shot him a slight smirk. “ _Such_ a gentleman,” she said.

He grinned. “Always.”

Lucky for them, Percy and Annabeth kept their kitchen pretty well stocked. Leo just hoped they wouldn’t mind him taking advantage of that.

For a little while, he and Piper were just there in silence. Leo was humming a little, caught up in the calming effect of having something to do with his hands.

“So,” Piper started, her voice light and casual in a way that _had_ to be deliberate, “it’s been a while since we’ve really gotten to hang out, hasn’t it?”

Leo faltered, dropping a knife to the floor. “Shit,” he exhaled. He picked it up and took it to the sink to wash it, overly methodically.

“I guess it has,” Leo replied after a too-long pause, mimicking the forced casualness of Piper’s tone.

“You been real busy with work?” she asked.

Leo let out a small, soft laugh. Maybe it’d be better if Piper would charmspeak the truth out of him, rather than _this._

“You could say that,” he replied.

“I’d love to hear about it,” she said. “Or, really, hear anything about how you’ve been doing.”

Leo grimaced. He shot her a pained look. “Beauty Queen—” he started.

She put her hands up. “I know, I know. You’ve been _busy._ I understand.”

“Look, Piper, I—” He took a breath. “It’s not that I don’t—I mean, I’m not—I…”

Piper smiled a little. “Don’t hurt yourself, Valdez,” she said, with some affectionate warmth.

Leo paused what he was doing, drumming his fingers against the counter.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Leo said.

Piper let out a breath. “That’s an understatement.”

“It’s insane. We should all be overjoyed, right? I mean, like, over the fucking moon happy. Right?”

There was a brief silence and Leo wanted to scream a little bit. He bit the tip of his tongue, feeling like he’d been too honest.

“Are you not happy?” Piper asked. Her voice was soft, nonjudgmental.

Leo relaxed his shoulders a little. He hadn’t noticed how tense he’d gotten.

He turned to look at her, and her gaze was steady and calm. God, he’d really missed her. Even without charmspeak, Leo didn’t think anyone could hold a candle to Piper’s calming presence. She made him feel less like the world was on fast-forward.

“That’s not—I _am_ happy. God, Piper, I’m so fucking happy he’s okay, you know?” Leo took a deep breath. He felt dread in the pit of his stomach. “But… we were all okay. I mean, _years_ of trying to be okay, right? I’ve cycled through all the stages of grief, man, like _seven damn times_. I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid, maybe it’s shitty, but…”

He trailed off, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

“C’mon, Leo,” Piper said quietly. “Just talk to me?”

“Shit, man, I’m trying,” Leo said with a small laugh. He made a sort of helpless gesture at himself. “This _is_ me trying.”

Piper tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She tilted her head a little—Leo recognized it as her About To Spill Some Aphrodite Wisdom look.

“I get it,” she said slowly. “You’re afraid. It’s understandable.”

Leo’s heart beat harder.

“Who, me?” he said with a grin.

“I’m scared, too,” Piper said. “It’s _okay.”_

His grin got more strained, and after a moment, he just dropped it. Leo let out a sigh.

“This balance—this _being okay,_ it didn’t come easy, and it didn’t come fast, and I’m not _ready_ to lose it, and…” Leo felt awful, but the truth was, there was a part of him that felt something dark plummeting in his stomach when he saw Jason again. Like, _oh, shit, not again._ And how could he feel that way? “What if something happens to him again? What if something happens to Nico? What if something happens to _both_ of them? We worked so fucking hard to get to this place, Piper. Nico and I, we…”

Leo trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. Injuries. Sleepless nights. Desperate acts from desperate kids. Nightmares upon nightmares upon nightmares.

And they ended up okay, they _became_ okay, after years of work and patience and care. They grew up. But if things had gone just _barely_ differently, they never would’ve gotten the chance at all.

Leo knew how close he’d gotten to dying, and how many times. He knew how close Nico had gotten, too.

“Jason was such a big part of our lives. And then he was just… he was _gone._ And we lived with that. We figured out how. I’m _so fucking glad_ that he’s okay, I don’t—I don’t _want_ him to not be okay. But I want to be okay, too, and Piper, man, I just _barely_ learned how.”

Piper was looking back at him with solemn eyes and a furrowed brow. Her lips were pressed together, like she was holding something back, or figuring something out. Leo felt his heart beat a little faster. He hated what he’d admitted—he _hated_ having complicated feelings here.

But how was he supposed to be okay right now?

“Leo, it’s okay that you’re scared,” Piper said. “You went through a lot. None of this is easy. You shouldn’t expect yourself to be totally fine here.”

“Easier said than done,” Leo replied, with a shrug and a smile.

Piper returned the smile. “I know.”

Leo let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and looking up at the ceiling. “It’s more than that, though, Beauty Queen.”

“What is it?”

“Something Nico said,” Leo replied. “You know… Jason never got his memories of Camp Jupiter back, not all of them. Even after the prophecy was over, he said it was still hazy.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Her voice was soft, gentle.

“We never got our memories back either, Piper.”

He looked back to meet her gaze and her eyes had gone a little wide. Well, at least he knew she hadn’t thought about it either. It was so _easy_ to ignore, so easy to pretend like it wasn’t important. Because they gained these colorful, fun memories of a friend, or a boyfriend.

It didn’t _feel_ like they’d lost anything—because they’d gained Jason.

And wasn’t that what mattered most?

Leo remembered how he and Piper had been with Jason, in those false memories. He’d been their connection. Leo’s best friend, Piper’s boyfriend. Jason had been central to their stories.

“Do you ever wonder? Who we were without him?” Leo asked quietly.

Piper hesitated biting at her lower lip. She glanced up at Leo and then glanced away quickly. “Honestly? I don’t think so. I don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Leo sighed.

“The memories are just _so clear,_ I never really remember that—”

“That they didn’t happen.”

“Yeah. I mean, Jason was… Well, he’s _there,_ in all of those memories, he was why _we_ became friends,” Piper said.

“But he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been.” Leo glanced up at the ceiling. “How did we become friends, Pipes?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Leo’s mouth twitched up in a smile. “Yeah, me neither.”

Piper straightened up, leaning towards Leo. “I want to,” she said, sudden and determined.

Leo furrowed his brow, studying her. “It’s been a decade, Beauty Queen. Why?”

She made a wide, slightly helpless gesture. There was something almost desperate in her gaze. “I don’t know, I guess _because_ I never wonder about it. It matters, doesn’t it? That was _us,_ we should know who we were, too.”

Leo hesitated. “If we have to lose the memories with Jason in order to get our memories back. Will you still want to?”

Piper froze for a moment. Her hands settled in front of her.

“Those memories aren’t real,” she said quietly. “If we lose them, all we lose is the fantasy we had of him. We lose the expectations that made everything so hard in the first place. Why wouldn’t we take that deal?”

Leo didn’t say anything. He had a lot of answers to that. They wouldn’t take that deal because the memories with Jason must be better—even if they weren’t real, how could they not be _better_ if Jason was in them? Piper wouldn’t take that deal because she’d lose those picture-perfect memories of her first boyfriend, her first love, her first kiss, all those precious moments. Leo wouldn’t take the deal because Jason was the first real friend he’d had—why would he want to lose the memories of _actually_ having a school that was okay for once, where he had someone who didn’t just tolerate him but who actually liked him?

_What if the memories they’d lost were awful? What if they were painful? What if they were worth forgetting? What if everything was worse without Jason there?_

“It doesn’t matter,” Leo said with a slightly dismissive wave of his hand. “Not like we’d know where to start.”

“Good thing we’re all researching memory retrieval leads, right?” Piper replied.

Leo shook his head. “It’s not the priority.”

“Right,” Piper said. “Because Jason is.”

That was the case back then, too. Jason’s missing memories were a much bigger deal than Piper and Leo’s fake ones. Leo figured they could play that card forever, really—there would always be something they could claim was more important, some reason they could put off dealing with the issue.

Once Nico and Jason came back, Leo was pretty sure he and Piper would just quietly go back to pretending those memories were real.

It was probably for the best, right?

“I still want to remember,” Piper said. “We should get our memories back, too. Those were _ours,_ Leo. Yours and mine. Don’t you think we should try?”

Leo smiled. “Sure thing, Beauty Queen,” he said easily. He turned back to his cooking. “How many tacos do you want?”

Leo heard Piper let out a soft sigh behind him, but she let him drop the subject.

They chatted a little more superficially as Leo continued cooking, just some white noise small talk that put Leo at ease. Things like roommate arguments he’d had with Nico, or how Piper’s dad’s rehearsals were going in New York.

They sat down to eat, Piper fawning over the tacos and how much she wished she got to eat Leo’s cooking more often. Which just made Leo flush with embarrassment and brush her off.

Once they were done eating, though, they lingered.

Leo didn’t want to be the one to suggest they go back to working. It had been driving him crazy, and he was ready to put it off for as long as possible.

Piper, on the other hand, was apparently trying to get him to _talk_ more.

“You know, I see Calypso from time to time,” Piper said, back to her forced casual tone.

Leo stiffened. “Oh?” he said, matching Piper for fake nonchalance. He had to quickly decide if putting off work was worth this. He thought about the tiny, mind-numbing letters and it turned out the decision wasn’t that hard.

Sure, they could pretend this was normal. Sure. He’d talk about this. Leo’s first ex-girlfriend, who had refused to speak to him long enough that Leo, endlessly persistent that he was, had actually stopped trying.

Leo had dated since then. He wasn’t pining for her. But even so, Calypso would probably always sting a little. He wasn’t still in love with her—far from it. But he had regrets about the way they ended.

“Yeah,” Piper said. “She’s doing pretty well, you know. She’s living in Milwaukee these days.”

“That’s… nice,” Leo said slowly. “I’m glad things are, ah, working out for her.”

“Mhm. I think, actually, if you reached out, she might… she might be open to talking again,” Piper replied.

Leo let out a small scoff of laughter. “Thanks for the advice,” he said dryly.

“I’m serious, Leo. I don’t think she’s mad at you anymore.”

Leo shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The ball is so far out of my court, McLean. If she wants to reach out, great, y’know? She’s a cool girl. I’d be happy to hear from her. But I am _not_ calling her first, alright? I tried. I tried enough.”

Piper was quiet for a few moments. “That’s… fair.” She let out a sigh. “I just think it’s sad, how some things just… never got back to a good place, right? Like I know nothing could ever be _normal_ again.”

“Sweetheart, there is no normal for us,” Leo said, shooting her a grin.

Piper returned the smile a little tiredly. “It would just be nice if things weren’t so broken.”

Leo shrugged. “Cal and I, maybe we were always gonna break. I’m glad I met her— _so_ glad, because otherwise, she might still be trapped on that damn island. And I think… I think we were both what the other needed, back then. I think she needed someone… who wasn’t like Percy or Jason, y’know? And I think I needed someone… like her. And it was right, and it was _good,_ and I’m so fucking glad I got to fall in love with her. But that’s what it was—it was what we needed, when we needed it, and I don’t think it was supposed to last.” He let out a shaky breath, feeling a little strange. He’d said bits and pieces of this to Nico, but he’d never laid the whole thing out there.

But he sort of wanted to keep going. Telling his oldest friend, the girl who was the daughter of the goddess of love, about why this mattered to him.

“I’m not saying the way it ended was… the way it should’ve. I messed up, I get it, we all know that. I also know, though, that it wasn’t all on me. And that I needed some understanding that she couldn’t give me. Which is _fine,_ but—fuck, my _best friend_ had died. I hadn’t seen him in months, and he was just _gone._ Just like that. I couldn’t handle it. And Calypso couldn’t handle me. And it sucks, and it’s hard, but it is what it is.” Leo paused, tilting his head.

Remembering the first time he saw Calypso. When he fell from the sky and she looked at him like he was some cruel cosmic joke, and they hated each other before they knew a thing about each other.

“If Cal wants to be friends again, if she wants to have me in her life again, shit, dude, I’ll be stoked,” Leo said. He felt a quiet, sad warmth. He’d _really_ loved her, once. “But we’re not _broken._ I don’t think. I think it was always going to be _something_ with us. We were going to fall apart, and it was going to be a beautiful fucking disaster, and I wouldn’t have changed that for anything.”

Leo was a little lost for a few moments, breathing steadily. Remembering. Imagining. He knew that the way it went down after Jason’s death was dramatic, and hard, and he knew he’d said some harsh words that Cal never deserved. He knew that Cal had thrown her own barbed words that _he_ didn’t deserve.

But when he thought about their relationship, he really did think it was always going to end dramatically. There was nothing about their relationship that hadn’t been a rollercoaster. It was a perfect, temporary thing. It was always going to be.

He noticed how quiet Piper had fallen and turned to look at her.

She was staring at him, something strange in her wide, brown eyes.

Leo felt himself get self-conscious. “What?” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Got something in my teeth?”

Piper’s lips twitched up in a small, private smile. “You really grew up, you know that?” she said, all warmth and affection.

Leo’s face got hot under her praise.

“Nah,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ve always been this wise, you just never noticed. Born like this, babe.”

She laughed. “You know, Valdez, I bet you charmed me all on your own at the Wilderness School.”

Leo grinned. “Oh, I’m _sure._ What’s the memory we got on how we started hanging?”

Piper paused for a moment, thinking. “Studying with Jason,” she said.

Leo snapped his fingers. “Right! God, we were both so distracted, and Jason was trying to keep us on track. So, theory—real memory is that you and I were studying and got _absolutely nothing_ done. Because Jason really was the only one of us even remotely trying.”

Piper laughed. “Seems likely. Why would we have decided to study in the first place?”

“Oh, easy. I asked you on a date. A study date, totally low key, could read as platonic. Such a _move.”_

Leo meant it as a joke, but Piper’s expression turned thoughtful.

“Do you really think so?” she asked.

“Whoa, easy, Beauty Queen. You were way out of my league.”

Piper gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “No one is out of anyone’s league. That’s not a _thing._ Love doesn’t work that way.”

“Love?” Leo echoed incredulously. He let out a short laugh. Some nervousness pricked at the back of his neck but he didn’t really know where it was coming from. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, McLean, all I did was ask you on a study date. You can’t tie me down _that_ easy.”

Piper laughed, open and warm. Leo felt himself relax.

“Who knows, you know? Could’ve been anything,” Piper said.

“I guess maybe we’ll find out,” Leo said, without really meaning to.

Piper brightened, an earnest, glowing smile on her face.

“Guess we will,” she said.

\---

_It wasn’t something Leo would ever say out loud, but sometimes, he thought it._

_That they were sort of caught in Jason’s orbit._

_He tried not to think that way—he knew that Jason would hate it, that Piper would hate it. But it was sort of true, wasn’t it? Leo’s life was insane on its own, and so was Piper’s, but it was Jason’s history that pulled them into the prophecy._

_It started with him—it always started with him._

_Leo never felt like the main character of the story, basically. He knew who he was, where he was. He was in Jason’s story, and he was always supposed to be._

_In retrospect, Leo thought he should’ve realized his crush on Jason. It wasn’t like it was particularly subtle. He thought maybe it was jealousy—or he thought maybe that’s just what having a best friend was like. How would he know? He’d never had a best friend before._

_He’d joked about resenting Jason for how heroic and perfect he was, but that wasn’t really the truth._

_Leo never really envied Jason’s place in the story. He’d never want people looking to him that much, asking him to make the big decisions, asking him to be front and center._

_What Leo wanted, really and truly, was for the story to end. He wanted the prophecy to be over and done with, and he wanted them to all be okay, and he wanted the Greek drama that was their lives to reach the final act. Drop the curtains, cut the lights, he wanted it to be over. The world had no right to their lives, once the story ended._

_So Leo did what he did best. He created the loophole. He found the way out, he found a way to build a happy ending into a Greek tragedy. He defied fate._

_Maybe he should’ve known it could never be that easy, but hell, he’d do it all over again._

_Leo knew he had to be the one the prophecy killed, because Jason would never try to save himself. If Leo wanted everyone to be alright in the end, he had to write in that ending himself. So he did, and it fucking worked, because Leo Valdez always finds a way, baby._

_Defy the prophecy, defy the impossible island, defy any curse that he ran into._

_It was hard to find his way home, but man, it was gonna totally be worth it to get everyone back together and theatrically recount his self-made miracle. He couldn’t wait for it. After everything they’d been through, they were finally going to be free, they were finally going to belong to themselves._

_They’d saved the whole freaking world. The gods couldn’t ask them for anything else._

_But it was never going to be that easy._

_When Piper told him the news, tears streaking down her face, barely able to get the words out, Leo was shocked until he was angry._

_Because, yeah, he’d known that if he’d let Jason be the storm the world fell to in the prophecy, that Jason would’ve accepted his death with heroic stoicism. That Jason would have walked right into it with his head held high._

_Leo knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Jason had been fully ready to sacrifice himself so that Leo wouldn’t have to, and that Jason would have had no intention of trying to find a better way._

_And the asshole just_ had _to prove him right, because when it happened again, when it came down to him or Piper, of course Jason accepted it and walked into it like he was expendable. Of course he did._

_But fuck that._

_Jason might’ve accepted it, but like_ hell _Leo was going to._

_Leo brought himself back from a fated death. He could bring Jason back, too. Right? Nothing was unfixable, nothing was lost, nothing was broken forever._

_Leo knew what he was doing. He knew, too, that he wasn’t going to listen to anyone who tried to tell him any different. Maybe it was crazy, but Leo was used to crazy._

_And it went on like that, with Leo’s stubborn, unbreakable determination, with the brittle certainty that he could do something about this. He chased every thin, hopeless lead, he scoured every remote corner, he begged anyone he thought could help._

_None of it was pretty._

_When he showed up, battered and broken, at Piper’s apartment, she’d been livid—and terrified._

_“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, glaring at him with anger that might’ve crushed him if he could’ve brought himself to care more._

_“Easy, Beauty Queen—”_

_“Don’t you dare_ Beauty Queen _me, Valdez. What happened to you?”_

_“Would you believe me if I said it was a skiing accident?” he tried to joke._

_She shot him an icy, unamused look as he half-fell back onto her couch, wincing. Styx, he’d really gotten himself hurt._

_“You look like hell,” she said._

_“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. The dismissive wave might’ve been more convincing if it hadn’t made him hiss in pain and pull his arm back to his chest. “Fuck,” he exhaled without meaning to._

_“Leo, I haven’t heard from you in—in, gods, months. Where have you been? What—” She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure what to say. Then she flicked some hair back and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you_ doing _here?”_

_Leo blinked, feeling hazy through the pain. He hadn’t thought about it much. He hadn’t thought about anything much. He wasn’t one for thinking things through, those days. It only slowed him down._

_“Didn’t have anywhere else to go, I guess,” he murmured, his gaze unfocused._

_It was half of the truth, he thought. Because yeah, he wouldn’t have known where else to go, not really. He couldn’t have made it very far, and what was he going to do, go to the emergency room?_

_But looking at how he’d stumbled his way to her place, he knew, too, that he’d just wanted to see her. He could’ve coped with these injuries on his own—he’d been figuring out how for months. He needed…_

_Something. He needed something._

_Maybe what he needed was some proof that someone was worried about him, some stray hope that the knowledge that he was putting his best friend through hell would pull him back from whatever this spiral was._

_“Styx, Leo,” Piper said. He noticed, for the first time, that she had tears clinging to her eyelashes. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”_

_“Nah,” Leo replied, forcing a grin. “I’m good, alright? I’ll be fine.”_

_“You won’t be_ fine _. You’re not fine now!” She wiped at her face with the back of her hand. “Please. Please, don’t do this. Just let me take you to Camp Half-Blood, we can get you fixed up, and then just… I don’t know, stay with me for a while?”_

_“We don’t have to go to Camp Half-Blood,” Leo said. He swallowed, ignoring what she was really saying, ignoring the desperation in her tone. “I know you’ve got ambrosia and nectar stashed here, right?”_

_Piper let out a sigh. She clenched her jaw. She turned away sharply and walked to the other room, coming back with a demigod-friendly first aid kit._

_Leo closed his eyes, letting out a breath. “See? Always prepared. Love that about you.”_

_He felt Piper carefully sit down next to him on the couch. She was too close, her knee against his thigh._

_“Talk to me, Leo,” Piper said softly. “Please.”_

_And maybe he should have. Maybe he should have told her right then and there that he hadn’t been able to mourn Jason’s death, because he couldn’t accept it. It was too wrong, too unfair, and he was losing his mind trying to make sense of why it had happened._

_Jason was supposed to be okay. They all were. And Leo couldn’t handle losing someone else._

_They were supposed to be done. The story was supposed to be over. Leo had made sure it wasn’t a tragedy._

_Maybe he should have told Piper that he kept outrunning the grief, kept finding new leads for how to save Jason, that he was getting more and more desperate. Maybe he should have told her that he loved Jason, and he didn’t know what to do without him. Maybe he should have told her that Calypso had already given up on him, that he couldn’t face Frank or Hazel, that the idea of going back to Camp Half-Blood and seeing that place, moving forward while Jason was dead, made him want to scream._

_He didn’t. He shot her a pained grin._

_“I’m fine, Pipes. Just a little banged up. It’s not the end of the world.”_

_Looking back on it, Leo had the faint sense that he’d gotten lost—without Jason’s gravity, without that orbit Leo had been caught in, he was drifting. Lost, alone, untethered._

_Some of it was his fault. Some of it was Jason’s. Some of it was every single person who was trying to pull him back from the edge but who wouldn’t fucking listen to how much he was hurting._

_Looking back on it…_

_Leo knew that he and Nico would’ve both died, eventually, if they hadn’t told each other to stop._

\---

Reyna bowed her head, murmuring a quiet prayer. Juno’s temple, nestled next to Jupiter’s, was always pretty abandoned. Juno certainly never got the same kind of attention that Jupiter demanded, and her temple was overshadowed enough by the size and brightness of Jupiter’s that is was easy to forget it was even there.

But she had been Jason’s patron. It had always felt a little more like she had claimed Jason than like Jupiter had, like maybe they should’ve tattooed a peacock on Jason’s arm instead.

Absently, Reyna touched her fingertips to her own tattoo.

Jason told her once that Juno owned him. He didn’t even say it like the fact upset him—he just sounded resigned to it. It was just something he lived with.

On one level, Reyna understood that. Being in the legion had a way of making you not prioritize yourself and your own wants. What you wanted always, _always_ came far below what everyone else needed from you.

“Any revelations?” a deep, steady voice said behind her.

Reyna smiled a little. She straightened up, brushing herself off, and turned.

Frank was just beyond the threshold, standing up tall and stoic with his hands behind his back. A soldier’s stance.

Reyna liked Frank. She always had, really, even when he was that uncertain kid who was so afraid of messing up that he would make clumsy, careless mistakes in his own nervousness. He was a good kid—he always had been. He just cared too much for his own good sometimes.

“No,” Reyna replied. “But there’s still time.”

Frank stepped into the temple looking up at the statue. His expression was solemn, his brow furrowed a little.

“It seems to me like she should’ve been looking out for him without being asked,” Frank said. “She claimed him. It _seems to me_ like she shouldn’t have abandoned that once he’d stopped being useful to her.”

“Frank,” Reyna said, warningly. They were _inside_ the temple—Reyna had her own frustrations with the goddess, and she didn’t disagree, but it was a little bold to say such things so directly.

Frank’s mouth twitched and he bowed his head. “Of course, I mean no disrespect,” he said, in a practiced, diplomatic tone. Reyna could see the glint of anger in his eyes, though. “The gods know best, after all.”

“Of course,” Reyna replied.

Frank offered Reyna a small smile as he turned back to leave. She followed.

Once they got back out, she let out a breath.

“I hope she heard me,” Reyna said.

Frank sighed. “I get the impression the gods aren’t listening much these days,” he said. There was a surprising edge in his tone.

“Well, they’re busy, of course,” Reyna said.

“Of course,” Frank agreed with a slight smile.

“Though I certainly understand what you mean,” Reyna said.

Frank glanced at her.

Reyna let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

It had been so many years since she was a soldier here, but the urge to be stoic, to be contained, to show no emotion or weakness… Well, that stuck with a person. No amount of warm, laughter-filled nights with Nyssa could heal that.

But things were better. Reyna had put distance between herself and this place. This place that had been her home and her occasional prison. Where she’d learned so much—including how to hide herself within layers of cold, hard exterior.

She looked around at Temple Hill. Her eyes catching ever so briefly on her mother’s temple, a little ways away.

“It wasn’t just him, you know?” she said, making an effort to keep her voice low. Making an effort to keep it unguarded, too. She always felt the need to hide—she maybe always would. It took a conscious, deliberate choice to be honest about this sort of thing.

But Frank was the kind of person who understood. He’d been a praetor, too—he was a child of war, too.

“Perhaps Juno should have been looking out for Jason. And perhaps Jupiter should have been.” Reyna’s hand twitched. She got the urge to touch her hair, a small, comforting habit from childhood she’d long since suppressed. After a moment and a breath, she let herself bring her fingertips to brush at the end of her braid. “But who was looking out for us?”

Frank smiled, warm and understanding. His soldier stance relaxed.

“I know what you mean,” he murmured. “Eight years. They let us grieve. They must’ve known.”

Bellona had never been an attentive mother. She expected Reyna to be independent, to be self-sufficient. Reyna didn’t really expect anyone to look out for her.

But how could Hades not tell Nico that Jason was alive, that he was safe, that Nico didn’t need to kill himself trying to find him? How could Aphrodite let Piper believe she’d been the cause, let her blame herself for Jason’s sacrifice, when he was still out there, let her pull away from her friends to stew in her own misplaced guilt? How could Hephaestus let Leo believe that he shouldn’t have brought himself back, let him believe that his life was disposable enough to risk, over and over?

How could all of their parents, great all-knowing gods that they were, let all of them live with this painful lie for eight years?

And who knows what could’ve been different if they hadn’t?

Reyna remembered telling Nyssa one night about how losing Jason for a second time felt like a reopening wound that was destined to never quite heal. The best friend she’d had, when she’d needed someone most—he vanished and forgot her.

And they never got the chance to repair that, and then he _died._

Nyssa had brushed the soundless tears from Reyna’s face, a crease between her brow and deep, pained sadness in her eyes.

Nyssa knew what it was like to lose people, too. What demigod didn’t?

At the pain in Nyssa’s gaze, Reyna had shaken herself off, straightened back up, dried her tears.

 _I’m sorry,_ she’d said, with that praetor-steady tone. _I didn’t mean to get emotional. I’ve lost people before—I’ve even lost him before. This is nothing I can’t handle._

Nyssa had shaken her head. _It never really gets easier to lose people,_ she’d said. _And there’s nothing wrong with letting yourself feel it. It hurts. I know it does. And you’re allowed to hurt like anyone else, Reyna._

“I’m glad _someone_ protected him,” Reyna said. “Gods, Frank, we were all just kids.”

Frank let out a small huff of laughter. “We weren’t kids, remember? We were _Romans.”_

The blatant bitterness in his tone was a little surprising. Reyna looked over at him, studying the hard set of his jaw. His eyes were narrowed straight ahead, towards Camp Jupiter. But really, he looked more sad than angry. The bitterness was colored with grief.

“Of course,” Reyna said flatly. “How could I forget?”

Frank shot her a slightly sheepish smile, but he didn’t take it back. It was the truth, after all. They’d never really been afforded the luxury of being allowed to be kids.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Reyna started, “if I should’ve stuck around longer. I know you and Hazel had it handled, but… Camp Jupiter is still so—”

She cut off. She didn’t want to criticize this place that had raised her. After all these years, she didn’t really want to admit what she’d gone through. What they’d put her through.

“We’re all doing what we can,” Frank said. Slowly, carefully. “It’s not easy.”

“No, it’s not,” Reyna agreed.

“Did I tell you I was trying to get rid of the tattoos?” Frank asked.

Reyna looked at him. “You did not. This must’ve been after I moved.”

Frank nodded slightly. “It took a lot of preparation, and a long time for me to work up the guts. I had the proposal all laid out, how we could phase the tradition out, how it didn’t have to be right away, even. I worked so hard on making it diplomatic and easy to say yes to. All I really needed was the approval.”

Reyna hadn’t known anything about this. She hadn’t heard anything about it either. Her hand twitched up to touch her tattoo again, but she stopped herself. It did no one any good to dwell on the memory of getting it, of being branded.

“What happened?” Reyna asked slowly.

Frank shrugged. “They shot me down. Then and there, no questions asked. It was unanimous.”

“Frank, I’m so sorry,” Reyna said. Truthfully, it wouldn’t have occurred to her to have tried to end that particular tradition.

It seemed a little insane that it never occurred to her. That she just accepted that as the way things were.

“I resigned shortly after,” Frank went on. “I have some regrets about that. I think I should’ve fought harder to change things. The way Camp Jupiter is now…”

“They’re still running it like we’re in a time of war,” Reyna said.

Frank gave a slight nod. “Camp Half-Blood has its flaws, but… God, Reyna, we have child soldiers here. Camp Jupiter pretends to be more than that, and it’s not all bad all the time, but… It’s wrong. It’s wrong to send these kids to Lupa, it’s wrong to train them like soldiers, it’s _so wrong_ to give them all this responsibility, all this pressure. Kids get hurt all the time there. Kids have died just playing the War Games, I can’t—” He cut off, letting out a humorless laugh. “ _War Games._ Reyna, it doesn’t have to be like this. It shouldn’t be.”

Reyna was quiet for a while. She didn’t disagree with Frank. She’d thought many of the same things. Her skin still prickled with the desire to defend the place. _It’s not that bad, I turned out fine, look at me now, this place made me who I am._

But she hadn’t turned out fine, had she?

None of them had.

“We should go back to Hazel,” Reyna said quietly.

She saw Frank turn to her in her peripheral vision.

“Reyna, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Reyna shook her head. “No. No, you’re _right,_ Frank. But I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how we can—I don’t know where to start.”

Frank sighed, with heavy weariness. “As with everything else,” he said, “it shouldn’t all be on us.”

\---

_The day Reyna moved away from New Rome, she second-guessed herself._

_Reyna didn’t make big decisions lightly. She never had. She was very aware of complications and consequences and challenges. She prided herself on how careful she was._

_But this decision, it was an emotional one. That wasn’t exactly her strong suit._

_She made hard choices. But never ones that were for herself, never the choices that were about what she wanted._

_This was the truth:_

_She wanted to leave. She wanted to put real, physical distance between herself and Camp Jupiter._

_It was hard for her to admit that, but it was the truth._

_Even as she gathered up what little belongings she had, even as she carefully and methodically packed away the artifacts of her life, she second-guessed herself. New Rome was safe. New Rome was home. New Rome was the reward offered to her once she’d made it through Camp Jupiter—the light at the end of the tunnel, the prize for all that work._

_How could she want to leave? This place…_

_Well, she’d been through a lot of horrible, hostile places. She’d been a lot of places that didn’t want her._

_This was home, as best as she could understand that concept._

_Honestly, what kept coming back to mind was how Jason had chosen to stay at Camp Half-Blood. Sure, it clearly hadn’t saved him, that choice clearly hadn’t protected him in the end, but at least it was a choice he got to make for himself. One choice that belonged to him and him alone._

_Being a demigod was never easy; it was never safe._

_New Rome was the safest a demigod could get. But staying felt less like a choice and more like an obligation._

_Reyna wanted something else. The war was over—her responsibility to Camp Jupiter had concluded. She’d done more than enough for them, more than enough to repay them for making her into who she had become._

_And now she wanted something new. Something different. Something more._

_She wanted to know who she was, outside of the weight of her past and her duty._

_She wanted to know that there was more to her than what this place had made her._

_She wanted to know that she didn’t have to share Jason’s fate, that she could make her own life._

_The world wasn’t ending anymore. And Reyna didn’t owe anyone anything._

_So she second-guessed herself when she left. But she still left. And she never regretted her choice._

_Reyna had to leave Aurum and Argentum behind when she left Camp Jupiter and New Rome. They were with Hazel now—Hazel was the newest praetor, so it only seemed right._

_Metalwork made Reyna think of them._

_“You’re a fast learner,” Nyssa commented lightly as they took a break from welding._

_Reyna handed her a mug of hot tea, settling down at the table next to her. “You’re a good teacher,” she replied._

_She’d been living in Oregon for a while, getting the hang of her new life. It was nice. Quiet._

_“How was Leo as a teacher?” Nyssa asked._

_Reyna smiled a little. “Enthusiastic,” she replied._

_Nyssa let out a soft laugh. “Loud and fast-paced?”_

_“Something like that,” Reyna said. “Surprisingly patient, though.”_

_Nyssa nodded, smiling fondly. “Sounds like Leo.”_

_Reyna looked down at her own tea, running a thumb along the handle. She never knew Leo all that well—she’d held a grudge against him for a long time, after what happened that first day in New Rome. Even knowing it wasn’t his fault, it had been hard to let go of that first impression._

_It wasn’t until he and Nico stumbled back into their lives, hanging on by weakened thread, that Reyna had been able to truly honestly give him a second chance. She knew that whatever had happened, Leo was in some way responsible for the fact that Nico had survived._

_“How’s he been doing lately?” Reyna asked quietly._

_Nyssa sighed, taking a long sip of her tea. “Better, I think. It’s hard to tell. I think he talks less than he used to.”_

_“I’m sorry. It must be hard.”_

_Nyssa shrugged slightly. “He’s my brother. I want him to be okay.”_

_Reyna thought about Nico, about how each day he was missing weighed on her. How sometimes it was even worse when he wasn’t missing—when he resurfaced, and they spread the news fast, and they all knew exactly where he was. Those days she’d get Iris Messages from a tired Will Solace, telling her that at least for now, Nico was still alive, but he still wasn’t listening, and he looked worse and worse each time he showed up._

_“Yeah, I can understand that,” she replied quietly. Nico wasn’t her brother, but he felt like family. She’d been bracing herself to lose him for ages, still sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop. After Jason, it sort of felt like they could lose anyone at any moment._

_“Hey, they seem like they’re doing better,” Nyssa said. “Leo says that living together has been working out.”_

_Reyna nodded. “And it is nice that they’re so close to Hazel and Frank.”_

_“I think they’ve gotten through the worst of it.” Nyssa glanced at Reyna with a small smile. “I think we all have.”_

_And it felt true to Reyna, too, though she didn’t know how to say it. Maybe the worst really was behind them. Maybe their losses could be lived with._

\---

The New Rome library was big—Percy felt like it looked like a cathedral. It was beautiful, if a little overwhelming. Annabeth spent way more time there than he did, so he trailed after her as they weaved through the stacks. They’d lost Thalia somewhere along the way, agreeing to split off if they found something that might be helpful.

Percy wasn’t all that optimistic about what they could figure out here. If he was being honest, he sort of felt like they were killing time trying to distract themselves so they wouldn’t be pacing in circles with anxiety.

It was fine. It was whatever. Percy certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. If everyone else wanted to throw themselves into distractions, Percy got that.

He wasn’t exactly jumping into the research the way some of them were, but he was too busy dwelling on…

Well. He was dwelling.

He was sort of drifting, eyes catching on stained glass windows and marble busts nestled in corners. In the middle of trying to think of anything other than—

He pulled a book from the shelf, half randomly. Just for something to do. He flipped through it idly, glancing over the words without bothering to decipher them.

Annabeth stilled suddenly beside him.

Percy looked at her curiously. Her hand was hovering in the air, reaching for a book. She pulled it back slowly, bringing it to her chest and looking down with a furrowed brow.

“We never talk about it,” she said softly.

_It._

Oh. Percy closed the book he’d been holding and put it back on the shelf. It was hopeless anyway—he wasn’t going to be able to read it without focusing like crazy.

“Do you ever think about it, though?” she asked.

Percy swallowed. This conversation. He didn’t want it.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice coming out rough. “I think about it every day, Annie.”

She let out a sigh. “At least it’s not just me,” she murmured.

Something about the way she said it made his heart twist. “Did you think it was?”

She shrugged a little. “You just… You seem so _fine_ sometimes. Like your old self, you know? And you just… you _told_ Jason about… I don’t think I could’ve done that. I have trouble getting the words out. Some days, I feel like there’s something fundamentally missing about me, like I’ll never be who I was.”

Percy wanted to reach out and touch her with a comforting hand, but he didn’t. He knew better—there was no comfort script for this kind of thing. He couldn’t sling his arm around her and tell her is was all going to be okay, because it wasn’t.

“I’m not fine,” he said.

“I just—it’s _so hard_ to talk about.” Annabeth took a deep, unsteady breath. “Everything that happened to us…”

“I know.”

“It’s like there are no words for it. I don’t know what to do without the words.”

Percy ran a finger across the edge of the shelf they were facing. “We’ll never be who we were,” he said carefully. “But we got through it. Didn’t we? We’re still here.”

Annabeth sighed. “I don’t know, Percy. Some days are okay. Some aren’t.”

He couldn’t argue with that. It was the truth. They’d come so far, but there were still days that knocked them completely off their axis. It didn’t even have to be something big, something unusual—sometimes, it was as small as the sound of crackling in the fireplace, and suddenly, Percy wouldn’t be able to catch his breath because he’d feel burning in his throat.

No matter what, Tartarus was always going to be something that had happened to them. Something they had gone through. Percy could still feel himself falling down there sometimes, the wind rushing past him, the drop in his stomach. It was always there, somewhere.

“We’re okay,” Percy said softly.

Annabeth snorted a little. “We have to be.”

Percy flexed his hand, wanting to reach for her. He didn’t.

“I can’t _stand—_ ” Annabeth paused. “Nico and Jason, they—they’re going to be _there.”_

“Hey, Nico said—”

“Nico said _maybe,_ Jackson. He wasn’t sure. He was freaking out, couldn’t you tell?”

Honestly? Percy had taken Nico’s word that he’d be able to see Akhlys without going to Tartarus. It had been a relief. It hadn’t occurred to him that…

He let out a long, thin sigh. But of course Nico would say that. Of course he’d say that, even if it was the slightest chance, because that was the way he could stop Leo or Percy or Reyna from following them both down there. Of course he’d reassure everyone that it was going to be fine.

Because it was Nico.

“They’re going to have to go to Tartarus, I’m sure of it,” Annabeth murmured. “I don’t know, I tried to believe him, but the more I think about it… We know Akhlys, Percy, she wouldn’t pass up a chance to drag them in there.”

Percy cursed to himself, frustrated. “I should’ve gone with them.”

Annabeth turned sharply, glaring at him, and Percy nearly stumbled back at the force of the anger in her gaze.

“Jackson, don’t you _dare,”_ she hissed, sharp and venomous. “Don’t ever say something like that. Don’t even think it.”

Percy frowned. “I can handle myself, Chase,” he said.

“That’s not—”

“And how is that worse from sending Nico down there for a _third_ time?” Percy said, gesturing widely.

“Maybe because I’m selfish!” Annabeth snapped back. “Because I can’t lose _you.”_

Which, of course, took the wind out of Percy’s sails a little.

His shoulders sagged, and he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

Annabeth sighed through her nose, looking up at him with a familiar frustrated look in her eye. She shook her head slightly.

“ _Why_ did it have to be Akhlys?” she said.

“Yeah,” Percy said. “That’s about how I feel about it, too.”

He had nightmares about a lot of things. The ones about Akhlys were the worst—because those where the ones in which he was the bad guy. He didn’t ever want to be the monster.

\---

_In Percy’s nightmares, sometimes Akhlys would become someone else._

_Percy had wanted to hurt her. He remembered that feeling so well—the visceral hate, that urge to finally get to be the powerful one, toying with someone else. He’d been toyed with so many times. Manipulated, tossed around, caught in webs of someone else’s design._

_He never wanted to be a part of any prophecy. He never wanted to make these big, earth-shatteringly important decisions. He was just a kid. He was just a kid, and all the gods and all the monsters forced him to become something else._

_Sometimes, it felt like pieces of him were being eroded away, like seaside cliffs with crumbling rocks._

_All of which was to say that down in Tartarus, Percy reached the edge of himself._

_Akhlys didn’t know who she was dealing with, and honestly, Percy didn’t know either. He was cracked down the middle, absolutely beyond done with being treated like a pawn or a plaything._

_If Annabeth hadn’t been there, if Percy hadn’t seen the look of fear on her face, he wouldn’t have stopped. That was a truth he had to live with. It was only because Annabeth was afraid of him that he didn’t let himself do worse._

_It wasn’t all the nightmares—but sometimes, in the nightmares where Percy was back in Tartarus, where he found himself grasping the poison like water and turning it back on Akhlys…_

_Sometimes, when the poison was choking her, she would flicker into someone else._

_Annabeth. Thalia. Nico, Bianca. Luke._

_People Percy loved, people Percy had hurt, people Percy had failed to protect._

_And as Percy tried to stop himself, tried to pull the poison back, tried to choke out apologies for what he’d done, he’d hear Akhlys’ harsh, cutting laughter, mocking him._

Oh, Percy Jackson, you’ll never truly escape the things you’ve done.

_Those nightmares always made him wake up in a cold sweat, with a feeling of sinking, twisting dread. He could feel the unsteadiness of his hands._

_It had been years. The nightmares were rarer. After everything, after the settling calm, the still, steady waves of what the world had become, they’d all managed to find some way to live with everything that had happened to them. It was over, in the ways that mattered. They were okay._

_But the scars lingered. The hurt was there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably be titled "tartarus."  
> Thanks for reading!! (I hit 100k words aaa I'm very excited about this) As always, comments are much appreciated, and you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr, if you like!


	11. tartarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last chapter that sticks with the flashback pattern. Anyway, two chapters left, I think. We'll see!

Nico never thought he’d be back here.

Memories were threatening to bubble up in the back of his mind, lurking in the way his hands shook slightly as he gazed out in front of him.

He knew what waited for him down there—he knew exactly what he was risking. He saw it often enough in his nightmares. In a lot of ways, he felt like he was still trapped down there, and now he was offering himself up to the pit _again._ Of his own volition, he was doing this.

Jason and Nico stood together at the edge, the pit of Tartarus a vast, sinking abyss in front of them.

Nico took a shaky breath. He’d stepped off this ledge twice before already.

“We’re going to be falling for a while,” he said. “But you can fly. When we get close to the ground, I need you to break our fall.”

“I can fly?” Jason replied.

_Styx,_ of course. Nico sighed and dragged a hand down his face. This would be easier if Jason could remember. But then again, they were only doing this because he couldn’t.

“Yes,” Nico said. “But I don’t know how you did it. So I can’t…”

“What happens to us if I can’t figure it out?” Jason said.

“What do you think?” Nico replied. “We hit the ground. Or I shadowtravel us and hope for the best.”

“So—I need to fly.”

“We need to make it to the ground.” Nico sighed. “So we will.”

Nico could feel himself freezing up, could feel the panic rising under his skin, so he took a step forward. Wanting to get this over with before he broke.

“Wait,” Jason said, putting a hand around Nico’s wrist. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

Nico glanced down at Jason’s fingers wrapped around his wrist before looking up into Jason’s eyes. Jason was frowning slightly, his gaze flicking between Nico’s eyes like he was trying to find something. He looked worried. He looked guilty.

Nico forced a smile that he was sure looked more like a grimace.

“Grace, it is _too late_ for you to try to say the risk isn’t worth it,” Nico bit out, frustrated. This was so like Jason. On the edge of the abyss, pulling back because someone else might get hurt. Suddenly feeling the twinges of guilt at the thought that _he_ might be worth the danger.

“But—Nico, I can’t make you do this,” Jason said, soft and serious.

Nico sighed. “You can,” he half-muttered. Nico would hate to admit out loud how much Jason could make him do, just by asking. He took a breath. “But you’re not making me do anything. You’re right—this is your best bet to get your memories back. This is the only viable lead we have, so.”

Jason’s expression tightened a little as he studied Nico’s face. Momentarily, Nico wished he could read minds. He wasn’t sure what Jason was looking for, what he was sensing.

“It’ll be okay, Jason,” Nico went on, reassuring, keeping his voice low. “We can do this.”

“I don’t want to get you hurt,” Jason said. He broke eye contact to look back into the void.

“I’ve survived worse.” Nico twisted his wrist out of Jason’s grasp, moving to interlock their fingers together before he could think better of it. “So have you, Grace.”

“That doesn’t actually make me feel better,” Jason said, quietly, like it was to himself.

Nico squeezed Jason’s hand. Staring into the abyss. He felt Jason squeeze back.

“It’ll be okay,” he repeated.

And, before his panic could rise too high, he dragged them both over the edge.

And they fell.

\---

_In the months that followed Nico and Leo’s escape from Tartarus, the nightmares were bad._

_Bad enough that there was one week where Nico woke up multiple times a night, in a cold sweat, panting and crying._

_One night, he just didn’t go to sleep._

_He and Leo hadn’t lived in their new place all that long—there were still a few lingering boxes they hadn’t unpacked. It was a nice enough place, in a quiet neighborhood with views of trees out the windows. But it was still a new place._

_Nico, in the memories that were still clear, had never had a home. Not really. For him, the idea of home had always been connected more to people than to places._

_For most of his life, that person was Bianca. Home was wherever his sister was, and that was all that mattered. If they were together, he was home, and he could breathe when she was there. When she left him, he was cut off from any feelings of safety or stability._

_Home was complicated. Messy, tangled emotions. Nico never stopped wanting a home._

_He’d thought, ever so briefly, that Camp Half-Blood could be that for him. But Bianca’s death, and then Nico’s own revealed parentage, had made that pretty impossible for years. How could he feel safe there? How could he feel loved?_

_Nico tried to never pin hope on a place again. He found himself turning to people instead, though that was hard, too._

_In any case, in this new place, with Leo sound asleep in the other room, Nico felt so far from home._

_He kept the TV on at low volume, just for some white noise, staring vacantly into space. If he fell asleep, he’d be there again. If he fell asleep, he’d feel all that pain, all that terror. Sleep wasn’t safe. This new place, unfamiliar, it wasn’t_ safe.

_Nothing was safe._

_Sometimes, it felt like he and Leo had brought Tartarus back with them._

_The hours passed by sluggishly, until the sky outside started to lighten, the stars disappearing with the slow-rising sun._

_It wasn’t quite dawn when Leo came out of his room._

_Nico flinched slightly at the sound of the door. He kept his gaze trained forward as he heard Leo’s slow footsteps into the living room, stilling before they reached the kitchen._

_“Nico? You’re up already?” Leo said, sleep heavy in his voice._

_“Still,” Nico corrected with a faint sigh._

_“Ah.” Leo cleared his throat._

_After a few long moments, Leo walked over and collapsed onto the couch next to him._

_“Who needs sleep anyway, right?” Leo said._

_His careless tone fell flat._

_Nico closed his eyes, taking a breath._

_It was constant, relentless. The images, the fears. He couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t eat and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He was exhausted. Completely drained and hollow. And still so fucking scared._

_Leo sighed._

_“What do you need?” he asked, his voice low. The words sounded awkward, a bit forced._

_Nico opened his eyes again. He avoided glancing Leo’s way._

_“I don’t know,” he said._

_“Yeah,” Leo replied, in the flat tone of someone who understood, on a fundamental level, how Nico felt._

_It was almost worse, that someone else felt it, too._

\---

They were falling for what felt like forever.

Nico thought he’d been ready for it, since he’d known it was going to happen. But maybe there was no amount of preparation for the feeling of plummeting through an endless void, air rushing past and stinging your face.

He felt his heart racing, the air sucked out of his lungs.

And the steady pressing of dread suffocating him.

Without really realizing it, he clung tighter to Jason’s hand.

_Every moment he’d already lived down there…_

What was he _thinking,_ why was he doing this? He was going to spin out before he could even be remotely helpful—he was going to panic and freeze and Jason was going to get _hurt,_ and it would be _his fault,_ and then he’d be trapped in Tartarus, tortured and knowing that he had no one to blame but himself, for his own pain, for Jason’s, for—

He felt Jason pull him closer in midair, holding him against his chest. He could feel Jason’s heavy breathing, his ribs expanding to press against Nico’s.

Jason was trying to fly. They were getting close to the ground.

Somehow. Somehow, they were getting close to the ground.

_We’re going to make it because we have to,_ Nico tried to tell himself.

Their momentum slowed, Jason’s arms trembling a little against whatever magnetic weight Tartarus was dragging them down with.

Their momentum _slowed_ , though not quite enough to stop before they fell.

Jason and Nico crashed to the ground, still entwined. They rolled along the cutting stones, Jason’s arm wrapped around Nico’s back.

They came to a stop, both groaning in pain. Nico was on his back, the glass-sharp rocks digging into his spine. Jason’s arm was still around him, his other arm braced on the ground next to Nico’s head. Nico could feel Jason’s heavy, ragged breathing, his head hung low enough that it was almost dropped against Nico’s shoulder.

Nico kept very still for a few frozen moments, all too aware of Jason’s chest against his. He could feel both their heartbeats against his ribs, the heat of Tartarus around them. Nico’s heart went through some complicated, painful twists, unsure of how he felt—how he could _stand_ to feel.

He pushed it aside. This wasn’t the time for… that. Whatever _that_ was going to be once he dealt with it.

“Are you okay?” Nico managed to breathe out, the words barely audible.

Jason shuddered slightly, pulling back just enough to meet Nico’s gaze. His blue eyes seemed to glow against the rust-red air of Tartarus.

He nodded slightly, studying Nico with a strange kind of intensity. His hand twitched towards Nico’s face. “Are you?” he replied, his voice soft.

Nico could only nod back.

Slowly, Jason untangled his arm from around Nico, pushing himself up to his feet. He offered Nico a hand.

A little shakily, Nico let Jason pull him up. Jason’s hand lingered against his, and Nico pulled away abruptly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Well. They’d made it.

_Tartarus._

Nico scanned the space around them. They’d fallen near the River Lethe. Distantly, Nico considered how ironic it would’ve been if they’d fallen into it, both of them losing all their memories and being stranded there, completely hopeless.

“So we landed by the Lethe,” Nico said. “We should get to the Acheron. The River of Misery. If we follow that, we should end up in Akhlys’ territory.”

“Sounds straightforward enough,” Jason said slowly.

“Straightforward, sure,” Nico replied faintly. “Pleasant, not so much.”

“Well, with a name like the River of Misery…”

“Yeah,” Nico said with a sigh. “Luckily, I know the way, so we don’t have to wander.”

“We have to stay on the path,” Jason mused, echoing Abeona’s words.

\---

_It was Hazel’s idea._

_If Nico was being honest, neither he nor Leo ever would’ve really entertained the option on their own. They’d both spent a lot of time running from their problems—making the choice to face them didn’t come easy to them._

_And especially since they both knew Camp Half-Blood a little more than they knew Camp Jupiter, the various services that New Rome offered weren’t exactly things they thought of often. After all, it had taken barely a conversation for Nico and Leo to agree that they’d rather try their hand at living out in the world than move to New Rome with everyone else._

_Maybe they’d been trying to distance themselves from anything too_ demigod _. Nico had certainly been trying to feel more human._

_Nothing against his dad, really, but Nico really wanted to just be human sometimes._

_Hazel had brought it up sort of timidly, like she was expecting Nico and Leo to react defensively, maybe even with hostility. Nico couldn’t exactly blame her. The past year since they’d… well, since they’d given up—it had been hard._

_Nico knew that he’d been impatient, testy, maybe a little more volatile than he used to be. Not that it was a giant change from what most of them had come to expect from him._

_The change in Leo was a little more obvious. The quiet, the stillness, the moodiness. People noticed that more than they noticed Nico’s avoidance._

_But Hazel, of course, noticed both._

_So she sat them down one day and told them, in a soft, hopeful—though nervous—voice, about the demigod counseling in New Rome._

_She’d been coming by their apartment a couple times a month, to check in, to hang out. Sometimes she stayed for dinner and Leo cooked, sometimes they watched a movie. It was all very relaxed, nothing too exciting._

_That time, they’d just been having hot chocolate in the living room, Hazel perched on the chair, Leo lounging on the couch, Nico cross-legged on the floor._

_“Counseling,” Leo echoed. He straightened up, shifting stiffly._

_Hazel nodded. “I mean—it would obviously be sort of, well… complicated to go to a mortal therapist, right? I mean, how could you tell them…”_

_She trailed off, but Nico could fill that blank in with so many different options._

_“Demigod counseling,” Leo repeated._

_Nico felt his stomach twist. He’d been dragging a finger along the handle of his mug, but he’d stilled when he’d noticed Hazel’s tone. Now his hand was trembling. He pulled it back slowly, setting it in his lap out of sight._

_“I’m not going to drag you there or anything,” Hazel said, putting her hands up in surrender. “It’s just something to think about. Okay?”_

_“Something to think about,” Nico echoed._

_Hazel let out a gentle, nervous laugh. “Okay, you guys can stop just repeating me.”_

_“Sorry, um—sorry,” Leo said. He shook his head a little. “Just… processing.”_

_“I didn’t know there was demigod counseling,” Nico said carefully._

_Hazel shrugged a little. “With the amount of trauma demigods go through, are you really surprised?”_

_“Yes,” Nico said, at the same time Leo replied with, “I mean, yeah.”_

_Leo glanced at Nico before turning back to Hazel._

_“Just kinda figured we were all supposed to deal,” he said with a vague wave of his hand._

_Hazel looked a little sad. “But we shouldn’t have to just deal on our own. You guys—you shouldn’t have to just deal with everything you went through alone.”_

_Nico felt like the heat was on too high. He squirmed a little, looking down at his hands._

_He was having a number of reactions to this._

_Like, what would be the point, since no one could understand? How could some demigod therapist get it, everything he’d endured? And what would be the point, because he and Leo had been managing_ just fine _on their own, actually? And what was Hazel really trying to say, did she think he was weak, did she think he was broken?_

_Underneath all of that, there was one crystal clear thought, held close to his chest._

I don’t deserve help, because I failed.

\---

_Stay on the path._

Nico wasn’t sure exactly what Abeona had meant by that. There wasn’t exactly a map of Tartarus, with designated hiking trails. The path could’ve meant anything. Keep to the most direct route to Akhlys, keep from wandering into the shadows, stay away from the cliff edges that run ragged through the place.

Nico was too familiar with the terrain of Tartarus for his liking, but it didn’t actually do him a lot of good. The place wasn’t consistent, wasn’t static. It changed and warped and twisted. Recognizing the terrain didn’t equal knowing where they were, not exactly.

He did get the advantage of being a child of the Underworld. So he could find his way better than most. It still was less than perfect. He had to keep focused on listening for the Acheron—he could tell the rivers apart, if he really tried to.

Unfortunately, it did mean that he had to listen close for the sounds of misery. It was getting under his skin a little.

He avoided catching Jason’s gaze. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, that Jason kept looking at him, kept seeming like he was going to say something. Nico wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it. He wasn’t sure if he _could._

There was something very heavy and impossible to hold about the way he felt about Jason Grace right then.

He’d been so angry for so long. He still was.

He’d been so in love for so long. He still was.

None of that was easy to manage. He didn’t know what to _do_ with it. He didn’t even know how he wanted to deal with it. The idea of running away after all this was like a song that had gotten stuck in his head. He could help Jason get back what he’d lost, at least, and then maybe he could get some _space_ to collect the shattered pieces of himself.

He’d never really recovered from Jason’s death, he didn’t think. He’d never recovered from Bianca’s death either. Even his mother, who he barely remembered—her death still ached. Maybe that was what it was like for everyone, grief never quite healing enough to move on from.

Or maybe it was yet another painful side effect of being a son of Hades. Nico wouldn’t know the difference, in any case.

“We’re getting close to the river,” Nico said, his voice low. The sounds of it were piercing into his skull. “Once we reach it, we follow it downstream. We should run into her.”

“Okay,” Jason said. He walked a little faster, turning to try and catch Nico’s gaze. “Nico, I—”

“We just need to keep moving,” Nico said quickly. Whatever Jason wanted to say, whatever _conversation_ he wanted to have—he could keep it to himself. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

“Nico, can I just—” Jason tried, his voice getting a little more strained.

Nico opened his mouth to interrupt again, but he didn’t get the chance to make a sound.

There was a sudden growl, and Nico and Jason both stopped in their tracks, turning at the same time.

An enormous hellhound was approaching them, stepping slowly, its bright, monstrous eyes glued to them hungrily. Nico swallowed, a sinking feeling in his chest, thinking about Mrs. O’Leary. Thinking about Cerberus a little bit, too.

One of the things that Nico always had to deal with—more than other demigods, he was pretty sure—was that he understood that not everything that ended up down here was evil. Dangerous and monstrous and evil were not all the same things.

Nico was dangerous—he’d even done monstrous things. But he wasn’t evil. This creature, too, was dangerous without being evil.

It was easier to fight the giants. Nico had been captured and tortured and starved by giants treating him like a meaningless plaything. If he were faced with them again, Nico wouldn’t have to hesitate. It was either them or him, every time.

He’d also had monsters with intelligent, hateful eyes gleefully hurting and toying with him, for no reason other than they enjoyed his pain. For no reason other than they detested him for reasons he might not be able to even comprehend, let alone decipher on his own.

But creatures like hellhounds? They were just dogs of the Underworld—powers so painfully similar to his own it was hard not to feel a kinship.

Nico didn’t want to fight animals who had just been hurt or cast out. It never seemed fair to him. They hadn’t had any chance to be better. How could he blame them for how they turned out?

Well, suffice it to say, Nico was considering trying to shadowtravel, despite the dangers of doing that in Tartarus.

In his reluctance and hesitation, he didn’t notice Jason’s reaction until it was too late.

Jason and the hellhound moved at the exact same moment, like Jason had been able to anticipate its move. The hellhound lunged towards the both of them; Jason lunged to catch the hellhound before it reached Nico.

With frozen horror, Nico watched them collide, Jason with his javelin in hand, the hellhound with its teeth bared and snapping.

Jason clearly had muscle memory on his side—he was making the strategic moves of a Roman soldier, dodging and advancing with skill. But he was rusty, too. Nico remembered the kind of grace that Jason used to fight with—this was more stiff, stilted movements with moments of hesitation.

It was exactly what Nico would’ve expected from someone who’d been taught young enough to never truly forget, but who had also gone the better part of a decade without touching a weapon.

Nico managed to make himself move, the terror gripping his chest more urgent than debilitating, but he could already see Jason struggling to hold his own against the monster. The hellhound was enormous, and hungry, and angry—it was relentless, barely even reacting when Jason did get a few good hits of his own in.

Nico reached the fight in time to watch the hellhound bite down on Jason’s shoulder, picking him up like he weighed nothing, shaking him and tossing him to the side like a toy. Jason fell to the ground with a yelp of pain, and the hellhound started to bound towards him again.

Which was just _not_ going to happen. Nico moved fast, getting between the hellhound and Jason, his Stygian iron sword at the ready. The hellhound stilled with hesitation, like it was surprised to see Nico. In a strange moment, the hellhound’s eyes went a little rounder and it tilted its head curiously.

It almost looked just like a regular dog. But the moment passed quickly and it snarled again. Nico saw it brace itself to leap at him, but he didn’t give it the chance. Adrenaline coursing through him, he lunged forward, sinking his sword into the monster’s chest.

The monster staggered to the side before evaporating into smoky shadows.

Nico grabbed his sword and turned frantically to see where Jason had landed.

Jason had been flung against some jagged rocks, red dust settling around him.

Without thinking twice, Nico rushed over, falling to his knees on the broken-glass stones of Tartarus, feeling them cutting into his skin through his jeans.

Frantically, he raked his eyes across Jason, one palm pressed to the center of Jason’s chest. He could feel Jason’s heartbeat beneath his fingers, which was a tangible anchor of relief. He didn’t really remember putting his hand there. He didn’t think about it.

The blood was coming from Jason’s upper arm, mostly. Teeth marks gouged into his bicep, reaching up to his shoulder, too.

“Fuck,” Nico breathed out. He couldn’t let himself freeze, but the panic was like static in his mind, drowning his surroundings out. Hands shaking, he tore the sleeve from his shirt, pressing it to the wound and wrapping it around to keep it steady.

It wasn’t that bad. It really wasn’t. It could’ve been so much worse, but that was at least half of where all this panic was coming from.

_It could’ve been so much worse._

And Nico couldn’t stop feeling a little sick at the images that flashed through his mind, all the things that could’ve gone wrong.

Realistically, there could be no coming back from dying in Tartarus. There were no minor goddesses wandering around here that would protect Jason. Abeona’s protection on their path was something, but it didn’t make them safe.

_It could’ve been so much worse._

Nico knew, with a twisting ball of dread in the pit of his stomach, that he’d almost just watched Jason die.

He realized, distantly, that he had _no idea_ what he would’ve done. If he would’ve been able to go on after that—if he’d have the strength to try and make it back home without Jason. He couldn’t honestly say he would’ve been able to keep going.

That scared him. After everything he’d gone through, that was terrifying.

After a few moments, when oxygen started reaching Nico’s lungs again, his gaze flicked up and met Jason’s.

Jason was staring back at him, something strange in his eyes. He’d leaned up enough to prop himself up on his good elbow. He was studying Nico’s face, like he’d been steadily gazing at him this whole time, with those attentive, tender eyes.

The thought of that made Nico’s blood pressure spike.

“What the hell is _wrong_ with you?” he hissed, the venom in his tone falling a little flat when his voice cracked, strained with concern and panic.

“I’m okay,” Jason said, his voice quiet and soothing.

Nico did _not_ want to be soothed.

“You’re such an idiot,” he snapped. “What were you thinking?”

“That I didn’t want you do get hurt,” Jason replied easily.

Nico shot him a glare, anger pulsing in his wrists. Honestly, how _dare_ Jason say something like that.

“So instead, you force me to watch _you_ get hurt,” Nico hissed back.

“I didn’t—” Jason started to argue.

“You may have the muscle memory of knowing how to fight these things, but you still don’t have your memories back. And even if you did, _I’m_ the expert here.” Nico leaned back slightly, wanting to put space between them. The way Jason kept looking at him… “Don’t try to protect me here. You’re just going to get yourself killed. _Again.”_

“I’m sorry,” Jason said softly. He was smiling slightly, not looking particularly regretful. “I didn’t think first.”

Nico rolled his eyes.

“You never think,” he muttered. He reached out carefully, his fingers brushing the makeshift bandage. He took a shaky breath. “Don’t do that again.”

Jason shifted, wincing slightly. He managed to reach his other hand over, wrapping his fingers gently around Nico’s wrist, stilling the trembling.

Nico could feel his own racing pulse against Jason’s fingertips.

“Hey, I’m alright. We’re okay,” Jason said. With effort, he pulled himself so he was sitting up. Nico instinctually pressed a hand to Jason’s shoulder, keeping the bandage in place and keeping him steady.

Jason met Nico’s gaze, something searching in it.

“That was too fucking close, Grace,” Nico said quietly, his voice quiet and raw, cracking a little.

Jason rubbed a thumb against Nico’s wrist. “I’m sorry. Really.”

Nico jerked away from Jason’s touch. “Not sorry enough.”

Jason took a breath, leaning towards Nico just a little. His eyes still searching.

“Nico—” he started.

“We have to keep moving,” Nico said crisply. “Can you manage it?”

After a charged pause, Jason let out a sigh.

“Right,” Jason said. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

\---

_“I feel like we haven’t really checked in with each other in a while,” Hazel said, her voice deliberately casual._

_Nico smiled a little. He appreciated that she pretended like they were checking in with each other just because, rather than the truth, which was that Hazel still felt the need to make sure Nico was managing alright. He couldn’t blame her, not really._

_He’d promised her a while ago that he wouldn’t abandon her again. That he would remember that he wasn’t alone. It got easier to do that, slowly but surely. He was finding a way to keep the solid ground beneath him._

_Things weren’t perfect—how could they be? But they were calmer, lately._

_“Have you noticed the lull in monster activity?” Nico said conversationally. He did appreciate her checking in—but he also wanted to avoid talking about the issue directly._

_After all the time, saying Jason’s name was hard. Maybe it always would be. Maybe it would hurt forever, and he would just get used to it as time went on._

_Hazel blinked. “No? What do you mean?”_

_“I guess it’s less noticeable in Camp Jupiter and New Rome, since you guys don’t have many monster attacks anyway,” Nico said. “But out here, it’s been weeks since Leo or I have run into anything.”_

_“Oh,” Hazel said. “Huh. That’s good?”_

_“Easier, at least,” Nico noted._

_Easier was the best they could hope for, he thought. After everything, Nico didn’t think any of them would truly believe that things were over for them. As Leo sometimes put it, the story never really closed. There would always be another prophecy someday—they just had to hope they were minor characters in it._

_“That’s nice for the kids that Percy has been tracking down,” Hazel said._

_“Yeah,” Nico agreed. “Probably easier to swallow the news when you’re not also running for your life.”_

_Hazel nodded. Then she paused a moment. She turned to study his face, her eyes warm and serious._

_“How have you been doing?” she asked, in a low, gentle tone._

_Nico took a breath. “Okay,” he said, the word feeling strange even as he said it._

_“Okay?” Hazel echoed._

_Nico shrugged. “Yeah, you know… I really think so. It’s… Well, okay, I won’t pretend that everything is great. Or even that I’m happy, really. But… I really am okay.”_

_Hazel smiled, though a little sadly. “The counseling been helping?” she asked._

_Nico gave a slight nod. “Yeah, I think so. It’s good to… get things off my chest, in any case.”_

_Hazel put her hand over his, and he was struck by how grateful he was to have her in his life._

_“I’m glad to hear it,” she said._

_Nico looked down into his hands, curling his fingers into his palms. The counseling_ had _been helping. It was still hard to talk about—which wasn’t a surprise. But some days were easier than others, and some days were brighter than others, and that was enough for now._

_It was enough because it had to be. Nico could live like this. He could be okay like this._

_“We all miss him,” Hazel said softly, like she could feel where Nico’s mind was drifting._

_“I, uh… Can we not?” Nico said softly. “I don’t think I can talk about him. Not today.”_

_Hazel touched a hand to Nico’s forearm._

_“Sure,” she replied._

\---

They reached the Acheron, the sounds of the river sticking to Nico like the dust in the air.

He wasn’t sure, really, how much of it Jason could fully hear, but it was clear he felt it.

Nico glanced towards Jason, trying to be subtle about it, but he couldn’t help but be concerned. Jason was already injured, and the river could drag people down on their best days. Nico could hear the despair in it almost like a language, but he didn’t know what other people heard.

From what he understood, the way Leo had described it to him, it didn’t really make a sound. Leo told him, when they reached the river, that it was sort of like humidity in the air—like summer days when the air was thick, hard to move through. The river made everything feel weighed down.

Nico and Leo had kept their distance from the Acheron as much as they could—trying to move through Tartarus following the Lethe or Phlegethon was better. But when they did have to follow the Acheron, Nico remembered that Leo kept wanted to take breaks.

_Just for a moment—just let me sit down—_ he would keep saying. Nico had to drag him forward, insisting that if he let him stop, Leo would never want to keep going. He’d have just lied down on the riverbanks, the misery soaking into his skin, until the monsters found him.

On one of the worst days, Leo had snapped back at him that that didn’t sound so bad, actually.

Jason looked tired the moment they headed downstream, sticking close to the edge of the river. He might’ve just actually _been_ tired—from everything they’d done, from the injury. But Nico suspected it was more than that.

With Leo, Nico had tried to keep him talking. If he just asked Leo the right questions, it would brighten him up long enough to crack through the misery in the air, and Leo could keep his energy up by rambling.

Nico thought about trying that with Jason, too, but he had no idea what to say.

Or—he knew what he could say to get Jason to talk. Sort of. He knew that Jason had been trying to, well, _talk_ to him. If he gave Jason an opening, it would probably give him something to move forward with and they could reach Akhlys faster.

Then again, he could just drag Jason silently forward and hope for the best.

“Can we—” Jason broke the silence, his voice heavy. “Can we just rest? For a moment?”

Nico bit his lip. “Jason, I’m sorry, we can’t.”

“But I—”

“No, I’m serious.” Nico touched a hand lightly to Jason’s arm, not quite willing to meet his gaze. “I know this sucks, okay? You’re hurt, and the river’s misery is getting to you. I know. But we _have_ to keep moving. The river gets worse when you stop.”

Jason let out a long sigh. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed.

Jason dragged a hand down his face. “Okay. Okay, just… keeping moving forward.”

“Just keep moving forward,” Nico echoed gently.

Jason’s steps forward were slow and awkward, like he was moving through molasses.

Worried, Nico kept his fingertips lightly touching Jason’s arm. It shouldn’t have gotten _quite_ this bad yet—Jason’s eyes kept fluttering shut, he kept faltering. The misery soaking the air around the river was hard to get through, but they hadn’t been walking next to it for very long. A nagging voice kept sinking into Nico’s thoughts, telling him they weren’t going to be able to make it. Telling him it was always going to be a doomed journey, a lost cause.

He supposed he would’ve anticipated this if he’d considered it—when he and Leo were traveling here, they’d been miserable and in pain for months on end. It had taken a while for the river to start really dragging Leo down, because Leo had gotten used to hating every step forward.

Jason had been living a life free of pain for eight years. It wasn’t exactly unexpected that the river would hit him harder and faster.

After a little while longer of walking, Jason stilled.

He stopped Nico, too, with a hand on his arm.

Nico looked over at him, furrowing his brow.

“Jason, we can’t—”

“No, I know, I just—”

Jason looked _exhausted._

Nico studied his face for a moment. He felt his heart against his ribs—if they stayed still much longer, it would be hard to get Jason to go on. Nico could feel it—the river wasn’t affecting him quite yet, but Jason might as well have been underwater.

Jason breathed heavily, his hand tightening around Nico’s arm.

Nico barely resisted pulling away.

“I think I know what happened between us,” Jason said softly. “Please, can you just tell me? Before everything comes back?”

Nico felt a spike of fear, swallowing hard. Jason couldn’t know what happened—he just _couldn’t._ Nico felt his skin crawl, the familiar feeling of being exposed and raw hitting him, this icy dread among the heat of hell.

“I don’t know what you _think,”_ Nico said, his voice shaking slightly. He took a breath. Pulled up his walls. Forced himself to be more angry than afraid. “But it doesn’t _matter.”_

“It _does,”_ Jason insisted, turning on him with an intense gaze and a stubborn frown. “Of course it matters. I only have flashes of images of my memory, nothing coherent enough to tell the full story, but I know what I _feel.”_

The spark of energy was a good sign, at least. Nico just wished it was about _anything_ else.

Nico narrowed his eyes. “Drop it, Grace. I swear, this is so beyond not the time for this.”

“I think it is the time, actually. _When_ would be a better time for you, di Angelo?” Jason’s voice had developed an edge. He wasn’t backing down.

“Maybe when we’re not in Tartarus! Maybe when we’re not next to the River of Misery!” Nico snapped back, finally jerking his arm away from Jason’s touch. “Look, I told you I’d help get your memories back. That’s what I’m doing. That’s _all_ I’m doing.”

Jason sighed, quick and frustrated, as he dropped his hand back to his side. “When I do remember, we’re talking about this,” he said.

Nico let out a bark of laughter. “When you remember, maybe you won’t want to.”

Jason didn’t blink. “I will,” he said, with all the certainty in the world.

The fear still clutching at him, Nico rolled his eyes.

“Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?” Jason said, his voice softening.

Nico could feel his pulse racing. This wasn’t happening. Whatever this was, it _wasn’t_ happening. He couldn’t deal with it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico replied, keeping his voice steady and cold.

Their eyes met for a long, tense moment. Nico felt like Jason could see right through him. He hated it.

“I think you do know what I’m talking about,” Jason said. He took a step towards Nico, too close for comfort. “I think you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about, and I think you’re afraid.”

_This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening._

If Nico entertained the thought, the feeling, that was lurking in the undertones, he’d fall apart.

“Is that what you think?” he said evenly. He swallowed, relaxing his expression and hardening his gaze.

Jason didn’t falter. “It is,” he said.

Nico gave a quick nod and turned away, forcing himself to take a couple slow steps forward. He had to hold back from taking off running.

“Well, _I_ think we’re taking too long,” he said coldly.

He heard Jason sigh as he followed, falling into step beside him.

_Stay on the path,_ Abeona had said.

Stay on the path. Don’t stray. Keep steady.

Nico closed the door on what Jason had been trying to say. He shut it off, stepped away from it. It was too much to handle, and anyway, there was no point to it. There was no option here that ended with Nico sticking around for that conversation.

If—

If Jason knew how he felt, if he could tell—

And, _fuck,_ if Jason felt the same way—

_Haven’t we waited long enough?_

There was something in the way Jason’s voice had gentled with the words, something in the way Jason’s gaze was locked onto Nico’s. He’d been _saying_ something. With cold dread, Nico felt like he couldn’t deny that it had _meant_ something, that it had meant more than he wanted to hear.

It didn’t matter. Whatever this was, whatever Jason knew or felt, Nico had _no intention_ of letting it get far enough to put into words.

He wasn’t going to let it get to a place that they couldn’t take back.

\---

_His life got close to normal._

_Going to therapy, living with Leo, taking the GED and starting college. It was all so… mundane. So human. He got lunch with his sister, he bickered with his roommate over the electricity bill, he did homework and studied._

_He went out with classmates, even. Got together in study groups at coffeeshops downtown, chatted about nothing. It was a little awkward when they asked him about his family, but no one thought too much of it when he brushed the questions off._

_The first time Nico got asked out, it caught him completely off guard._

_He’d only ever really dated Will—and their relationship had been awkward and short-lived. He and Will were on speaking terms again, more or less friends, but it hadn’t exactly been a normal relationship progression in the end._

_If Nico was being honest with himself, after he and Will fizzled out, after Jason died, he hadn’t thought about romance at all. It hadn’t been a priority. He didn’t really think it would ever happen for him._

_Maybe things like that just never worked out for people like him—that was something he could live with, really. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t important._

_So Nico hadn’t noticed when the guy from his English class started flirting._

_They were in a study group together, sharing notes and getting coffee together after class. There were about five people in the group total. Nico didn’t go to every hangout—estimating generously, he maybe went to half of them._

_One day, one of the guys asked him to coffee. Nico had assumed he meant with everyone, and had started to reply, but the guy interrupted and corrected._

_“No, that’s not—” he said, with a slightly nervous laugh. He shook his head. “I was asking if you’d want to get coffee, like, just the two of us.”_

_Nico stared blankly. “Just the two of us,” he echoed softly._

_“To be clear, I’m asking you on a date,” the guy replied. He put his hands up and smiled. “Totally cool if you don’t want to, I just thought… Well, I thought it was worth asking, right? You never know.”_

_The guy’s name was Daniel—he was nice enough, talkative in class. He was the only English major in the study group, so they relied on his notes most of the time._

_Nico’s first thought after he asked was how little this guy looked like Jason or Percy._

_Belatedly, he thought the guy didn’t look anything like Will, either._

_He was a little shorter than Nico, thin and wiry with close-cropped black hair. He was sort of pretty, with a nice smile and a disarming way of talking._

_“A date,” Nico said faintly, when he realized he’d let several moments pass and Daniel was starting to look flustered. “With me?”_

_Daniel grinned, shrugging a little. “I mean, yeah.”_

_Nico paused. “Why?”_

_Daniel laughed, soft and warm. “You know what, I can tell you all about my crush on you over the coffee I buy you.”_

_Nico blinked. He had no idea, really, what to say or what to do._

_But, gods, for a moment, it seemed like the normalcy his life had settled into could mean…_

_Something. Something more than sad, resigned peace._

_“Sure,” Nico said, apprehensive. But a little bit hopeful, too._

\---

The silence between them had grown tense, and the drag from the river was getting worse. Nico could hear the sounds more clearly than ever. They were getting close. They were getting really, _really_ close.

Nico stilled, putting a hand on Jason’s arm to stop him.

Jason glanced at him questioningly, beginning to open his mouth, but Nico shook his head slightly.

Nico took a few tentative steps forward, angling himself in front of Jason without really thinking about it. She was here. He could feel it in the air. The river had slowed to a crawl around this bend, the water murky, sludge-like. They’d reached a clearing with jagged stones crumbling and opaque fog encroaching around the edges.

This was the place. Nico could feel eyes, watching them with pointed, cold curiosity.

He stepped further in front of Jason, keeping an arm out to indicate for him to stay back.

“Ahklys,” Nico called out, his voice loud and clear.

There was no immediate answer but Nico could see the greenishly white fog shifting, the faint edges of a form circling like it couldn’t decide whether to listen.

“I know you’re there,” he said.

“Well, of _course_ you do,” came a crackling voice, dripping with poisonous disdain.

Ahklys emerged from the darkness, and Nico heard the sharp inhale of breath from Jason behind him.

She was all bones and dust, pointed joints and sunken skin. She walked like her brittle limbs could barely hold her up, moving slowly, almost stumbling as she approached. Her eyes were wet with cloudy tears, dried blood caught in the corners of them, as well as on the scrapes that dragged her face down.

She was smiling. A wide, joyless, yellowing smile.

When she was a few yards away, she stopped, her eyes connecting with Nico’s. Neither of them blinked.

Ahklys tilted her head with inhuman sharpness.

“Oh, look who it _is,”_ Akhlys said, her voice dripping and sticky in the hot, red air. “My favorite little demigod.”

She said that with _entirely_ too much glee. Nico gritted his teeth. He hated how familiar she still was, how he had the sound of her voice memorized.

_What more could I do to you? What could I ever do to you that you don’t already do to yourself?_

“You didn’t come when we summoned,” he said. “So here we are.”

Akhlys let out a hacking laugh, like she was in the middle of a coughing fit. “You call that a summoning? Your _stalest_ pain, delivered without a single tear. Please.”

Nico glared. “I’m sorry that my sister’s death wasn’t good enough for you,” he said icily.

“You should be. Such _delicious_ misery, and that was all you could offer?” Her voice was knowing, condescending.

Nico had to stop himself from taking the bait. They weren’t here for a fight.

“My apologies,” Nico said evenly.

“How I’ve _missed_ you, Nico di Angelo,” Akhlys said. She took another staggering step forward. “Did you come back because you missed me, too? Have you finally realized where you belong?”

Nico saw Jason take a step forward in his peripheral vision.

“No, Akhlys,” Nico said. He kept himself calm. “We are merely here to make a deal. A transactional exchange.”

He couldn’t frame it as a favor—not with her.

Akhlys glanced behind him like she’d just noticed that he wasn’t alone. With a dismissive grunt, she turned her gaze back on Nico.

“You know what I think?” she said with another hacking laugh. “I think you, dear little Nico, know that there’s no _place_ for you up above. Of all the gods and goddesses in Olympus, not a single one of them _understands_ you the way I do, and deep down, you know it to be true.”

“It’s been a decade, Akhlys,” Nico said, his impatience digging into his voice a little. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Oh, love, it worked on you when you were fourteen because it was _true,”_ she said with faux sympathy. Another step forward. Nico was going to have to pay attention to how close she inched towards them.

“I’m not that kid anymore,” he said, evenly, as confidently as he could. “You can’t get to me.”

She grinned. Inhuman, cruel, mocking.

“Oh, dear little thing, your pain hasn’t gone anywhere,” she said, in a low, dangerous tone. “It would take the simplest flick of my wrist to pull it all back to the surface. You are _fooling_ yourself, Nico di Angelo, if you truly believe you can be happy.”

She was lying. She was saying all this to get a rise out of Nico. She wanted him to hurt, she wanted him to believe that nothing would ever get better, she wanted him to be as hopeless and heartbroken as he’d been before.

But _he wasn’t that kid anymore,_ and she couldn’t undo everything he’d done to get this far.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was better, and he’d been _okay,_ and she couldn’t take that away from him.

“Keep telling yourself you can handle this, dear,” she purred. “You have no idea how much farther you can fall.”

It wasn’t true. _It wasn’t true._

“We’re here for me, not him,” Jason said suddenly, snapping Nico out of his sinking thoughts, his voice crisp and professional. Nico hadn’t noticed him move, but he was right at Nico’s shoulder now, nearly touching.

Akhlys let her gaze linger hungrily on Nico for a few more moments before she dragged it to Jason, her head lolling to one side.

“You? You have nothing to offer me,” she said dismissively. “Plunge yourself into the river first.”

For a ridiculous moment, it looked like Jason was considering that as a possibility. Nico grabbed his arm, suppressing a sigh. Leave it to Jason to genuinely consider _swimming in the river of misery._

“Akhlys, surely, you can appreciate the merits of a challenge,” Nico said smoothly.

“A challenge?” Akhlys said. She said it with disdain, but Nico could hear the sharp edge of interest in it, too. “I’m _hungry,_ boy. I don’t want a contest, I want an _offering.”_

“What do you know of Achelois?” Nico asked.

Akhlys scoffed, waving a shriveled hand in the air in front of her. “ _Her?_ She is nothing. A petty healer, one of the twins’ lot. She couldn’t matter less to me.”

The amount of bitterness in Akhlys’ tone said otherwise.

Nico could work with that.

“Oh, well, then you wouldn’t care to know what she’s done,” Nico said simply.

“Not at all,” Akhlys replied. She paused. “Tell me anyway.”

“See, she took _all_ of his suffering away,” Nico said, gesturing slightly to Jason. Avoiding using his name. If Akhlys didn’t already know who he was, they should avoid letting her find out. “Just like that, washed it away. Seems to _me_ like she might be stronger than you.”

Akhlys made an appalled noise in the back of her throat.

“Petty! Useless! Doesn’t she know life is _meaningless_ without suffering?”

Nico shrugged. “Well, in any case, the reason he has _nothing to offer you,_ as you say, is because he lives a painless life now. You can’t touch him.”

“Absurd! Misery touches _everyone._ There is no escaping me.” She took another step forward and Nico stiffened.

_Too close._ If she took another step, she’d be within reach.

“Prove it,” Jason said. “Undo what Achelois did.”

Nico winced a little. That was maybe a little too direct. It was too late, though—Nico could see it in the way Akhlys’ grin grew. She knew now exactly what they wanted from her.

It was almost worse, really, that she seemed so happy to oblige.

Another step closer. Arms-length away. She could touch Jason now.

“I would _love_ to,” she practically purred.

“Wait—” Nico started.

“Oh, don’t back out now, dear. I can give dear Jason Grace all the misery he craves—” Akhlys said, in a low, syrupy tone. “And then I can poison you both. What _fun.”_

Nico barely had time to process that Akhlys used Jason’s name before her hand shot out. Her fingers pressed hard against the center of Jason’s chest, and for a still moment, nothing happened.

And then—

Jason inhaled sharply, his breath rattling like he was in pain. By the time Nico turned to look at him, he’d crumpled to his knees, curling in on himself.

“Jason,” Nico breathed out.

“Perfect,” Akhlys said, her tone hungry and full of malice.

She started to lean over Jason, her shadow seeming to envelop him. Before she could get any closer, Nico shoved her backwards.

“Don’t touch him,” he snapped.

Akhlys glared at him. “Why, I only did what you _asked_ of me,” she hissed. “Ungrateful—”

She moved her hands jerkily, and Nico could see the green, poisonous fog beginning to surround them.

“No,” Nico said firmly, the air around him growing cold. A little panicked, he barely noticed as he pulled the darkness around them both. When Akhlys’ form was beginning to be obscured in shadows, Nico turned away, back to where Jason had crumpled down.

Nico fell to his knees, leaning close. And the darkness surrounded them completely.

Jason was shaking, his fingers in his hair, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Jason—” Nico said. He reached out, pressing his fingertips to Jason’s shoulder. Jason shrank away, murmuring incoherently to himself.

Nico could hear Akhlys’s cackle, distantly, but it was fading fast. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care about her, he didn’t care about anything but the way Jason kept curling closer and closer to the ground, like he was trying to disappear.

A swell of anguish rose in Nico’s chest.

“Jason, c’mon,” he said softly, as gently as he could.

He put an arm over Jason’s shoulder, and almost immediately, Jason fell against him, burying his face into Nico’s chest and nearly knocking him off balance.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, breathe,” Nico tried. He wasn’t even sure if Jason could hear him. He wasn’t even sure if it had worked—if Jason had gotten his memories back. He had no clue what was happening, and he was _terrified._

Tartarus seemed like such a distant concern compared to how Jason was trembling against him, but Nico _didn’t know what to do._

Hesitantly, he stroked a hand comfortingly down Jason’s back, trying to soothe the tension that was coiled around him.

“Jason, _please_ ,” Nico said, shaky and desperate and scared. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for. He’d never seen Jason like this—not even close. He thought Jason might be crying, which was just…

Well. It twisted in Nico’s chest painfully.

God, what he wouldn’t have done for Piper’s charmspeak right then. Some soothing calm, that gentle, healing power. She was a thousand times more equipped to handle this than he was.

Almost anyone would’ve been better, really. Nico was hopeless. He couldn’t begin to figure out what he could do. All he’d managed was to drag them into the fragile safety of the shadows, but that couldn’t last forever.

He felt desperately alone.

And then, in some strangely surreal moment, a door appeared in the darkness near them.

Nico’s hand stilled where it had been rubbing Jason’s back and he stared.

It was a simple wooden door. Like the door to a plain wooden house—it was nothing particularly special, and it looked unreal, the way it was illuminated despite the surrounding shadows. Nico wondered if he was somehow hallucinating.

He blinked several times, expecting the vision to disappear, but it didn’t. The door remained there.

Well, what did he have to lose?

“Jason, I need you to get up, can you do that?” Nico murmured.

Jason didn’t reply but it didn’t matter.

Nico got to his feet, pulling Jason up with him. Jason didn’t resist, but he was still leaning most of his weight into Nico. Nico stumbled slightly, but he braced an arm around Jason’s waist, guiding them both to the door.

Nico tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, and cool to the touch, like the heat of Tartarus couldn’t get to it.

Good enough for him.

Nico opened the door, and they both half-fell across the threshold.

\---

_On Nico’s twenty-first birthday, Leo insisted they go out for drinks._

_They hadn’t done much for either of their birthdays over the years, but Leo had said that twenty-one was a milestone they couldn’t overlook._

_He’d made a big deal about buying Nico his first legal drink, rolling his eyes when Nico pointed out that, technically, he was actually several decades older than Leo. It was just the two of them—Hazel wasn’t old enough to get into the bar, and she was really the main other person Nico would’ve wanted there._

_Leo might’ve had some ulterior motives with the plan, anyway—both of them had just gone through respective mild breakups that month. Leo with a guy he’d met at a hardware store downtown, Nico with a guy from his chemistry class. The relationships had been casual, barely a blip on the radar of their emotional issues._

_Honestly, Nico was pretty sure Leo was just excited that they had something so perfectly mundane to complain about over drinks._

_“I get that it’s petty, but dude,” Leo was in the middle of saying, gesturing widely with his hands. “But, look, I did not have the patience for him. He needed the world to be on slow-motion, the way he talked—it made me antsy.”_

_Nico laughed. “So what did he do when you rambled at a mile a minute?”_

_“He stared vacantly until I was done, and then would be all—‘wait, I missed something.’ And then he’d ask me about, like, the first thing I said. It drove me up the freakin’ wall, dude,” Leo went on._

_“It was never gonna work out,” Nico replied, shaking his head._

_Leo let out a short laugh. “But what about your guy, though? What was his name—Nick? Chad? Trent?”_

_Nico shot a good-natured glare. “You know his name was Kyle.”_

_Leo shrugged. “Whatever, frat guy name, close enough.”_

_It went like that for a while—easy, simple bantering over drinks. Nico hadn’t really ever thought he and Kyle were going to turn into anything real—it was nice while it lasted, but the breakup hadn’t hurt. It was really more of a quick conversation, where they shrugged and told each other_ better luck next time.

_It wasn’t like Nico was looking for the great love of his life or anything anyway._

_Leo stretched his arms behind him. “I’ll be in love again someday,” he said, with a casually confident air. “It’s just a matter of time.”_

_Nico, before he could stop himself, snorted derisively and said, “I won’t.”_

_Leo paused, tilting his head. His smile faded. “I don’t know about that,” he said._

_Nico shook his head. He waved a hand dismissively, trying to brush it off. Really, he didn’t mean to let that slip. “No, it’s—it’s fine, y’know. That’s just not for me.”_

_“What, you really think never?” Leo asked._

_Nico sighed. “I’d_ rather _never.”_

_“Oh, come on, it’s—”_

_“Look, it’s just too much for me,” Nico said. He dragged a finger down the condensation on his glass. “It’s too big—it hurts too much. It’s just not worth it. I’m fine, I don’t need it.”_

_Leo furrowed his brow, studying Nico’s face._

_“If you say so,” Leo replied. “But I don’t think you should totally discount the possibility, right? You never know, dude. The one could be right around the corner.”_

_Nico let out a soft laugh. “You’re the romantic, Valdez. Not me.”_

_Nico really was fine with it. It was better this way. He didn’t need to go through the trouble. Being in love hurt too much—it gave him too much to lose. He never wanted to be that vulnerable again. The risk wasn’t worth it. Everything he’d gone through…_

_Well. He wasn’t willing to put himself through any of that again._

_He thought about his life, and it was enough on its own._

_Never again. He couldn’t afford the risk that came with falling._

\---

The first thing Nico noticed was the light. Gently pink and purple, like a sunset, coming in through a window.

The second thing he noticed was that _they were in Jason’s apartment._

Somehow.

Nico had no idea what to do with _that._

He pushed away his own confusion long enough to pull Jason to the couch, guiding him to lie down. Jason was still shaking, but as he collapsed into the pillow, he seemed to fully pass out, his tight expression going slack and his trembling hand dangling limply towards the floor.

Nico almost let out a breath of relief until he remembered he had no clue what the hell was going on.

He turned sharply, scrutinizing the apartment with narrowed eyes. He had never known Tartarus to trick you into believing you’d escaped as a form of torture—that really seemed a little too roundabout for Tartarus. The place was pretty straightforward with its torment.

Nico nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the woman leaning against the wall by the door.

“What the—”

“Hello, Nico,” she greeted with a quick smile.

He gaped. Whatever he’d been expecting, this wasn’t it.

The woman wasn’t particularly tall—maybe a few inches shorter than him. She had brass-colored eyes, a curiously standoffish look about them. She was pretty and a little intimidating in a way that reminded him of Nyssa, maybe Reyna. That sort of closed-off confidence, with a careful air.

“You know my name, it seems wrong I don’t know yours,” Nico said, a little apprehensively.

It seemed like she had probably been the one to get them out of Tartarus, though how or why, Nico was uncertain. She seemed like she _must_ be a goddess, which meant she was almost certainly among those who’d saved and protected Jason over the years.

“Is that your way of asking me to introduce myself?” the woman replied, her lips twitching up into an amused smile.

“Forgive me if I’m lacking in courtesy,” Nico replied dryly. “I’ve had quite the day.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she said. “Tartarus, hm? One of these days, Jason will get himself into something none of us can get him out of, honestly.”

“Hopefully, he won’t have to,” Nico replied. “If this worked.”

Her gaze flicked over to where Jason was out cold on the couch. “I believe… it _almost_ did.”

Nico stifled a sigh. “Great. Just great. _Almost.”_

“Oh, don’t be a defeatist, Nico. Almost is pretty good.”

“Not good enough for Jason,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“You’re probably right about that.” She pushed herself off from the wall and took a few steps forward, tilting her head as she studied Jason. Her gaze had softened considerably. “He certainly doesn’t deal in _almosts,_ our Jason.”

“Our?” Nico echoed, pulling his arms around himself.

She turned to him, shooting him a brilliant smile. “Indeed,” she said. Not elaborating.

Nico bit at his lip.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it my name?”

“Well, I—um. I’d also like to know that.” He took a breath, half a tired sigh. “But… why didn’t anyone stop you?”

“Stop me?” she repeated.

“All of you. Leucothea, Achelois, Abeona… I mean, wouldn’t someone have stopped you from saving him?” It had been itching at the back of his mind, but he’d managed to hold the question back. Now, he was too drained to stop himself from asking.

The goddess looked amused.

“Like whom, precisely?” she asked, in a tone that suggested she was humoring him.

Nico frowned. “My father. Or… Zeus. Poseidon. Any of the gods who made the rules that you can’t interfere that much with demigods’ lives.”

She nodded thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her lips. “You make an excellent point, Son of Hades. Let’s consider. Would it have been Jupiter to prevent a handful of minor goddesses from rescuing his only remaining demigod son? Or, perhaps, Poseidon—it was _his_ domain after all. He would just have to admit that it was in _his_ territory that a Son of Jupiter was murdered in cold blood—not to mention he’d have to acknowledge a minor sea goddess going against his rule fearlessly. Or, maybe, as you suggest, it would be your father, Hades. He is, after all, Lord of the Dead—he certainly wouldn’t want to show _favoritism_ , by allowing a boy his son is so… _fond_ of to escape death.”

“ _Okay,”_ Nico said sharply, raising a hand. “I get it. I get the picture.”

She smiled, catlike. “Rules can be bent, broken, and ignored. You know this _full_ well, dear.”

“Yeah, well.” He huffed a sigh, glancing back towards Jason. “They’re not often bent or broken in our favor.”

“What can I say?” she said with a small shrug. “Jason is a special case.”

Nico looked back at Jason. And felt his chest tighten.

“That, I can understand,” he said softly.

“I’m sure,” the goddess replied, her tone a little gentler than it had been before.

Nico met her gaze again. “So who are you?” he asked bluntly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that any way to talk to a goddess?” she said, though she didn’t sound particularly committed to scolding him.

“Like I said. Long day.”

“Fair enough,” she replied. She offered a slight bow of her head. “I’m Cardea. Heard of me?”

The smallest bit of recognition itched at Nico’s mind. “Cardea…” he said faintly. “Janus’ lover?”

She let out a small scoff and waved her hand dismissively. “A goddess in my own right as well! Honestly!”

“My apologies,” Nico said, unable to keep the dry tone out.

She looked vaguely amused by him, though, and smiled.

“Goddess of the door hinge,” she said. “Janus and I work closely, yes, as we both look after thresholds. I protect the home.”

Right. Magically appearing door. “Well, that explains how we got out.”

“You could be a little more grateful,” Cardea said. “It was _not_ easy to reach Tartarus. You’re lucky I managed when I did.”

At that, Nico did bow to her with sincerity. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Died, probably,” Cardea replied.

Nico stifled a sigh. “Yeah. That.”

Cardea offered a smile. “I’ll always do what I can to keep Jason safe.”

“You said it only _almost_ worked,” Nico said. “What—what can I do?”

“You? Nothing,” Cardea said. She took a few steps closer to Jason, her gaze going affectionately soft. “But there is something I can do.”

Nico waited for her to go on. Jason had begun to twitch in his sleep, his facial expressions tightening like he was scared or in pain. And he murmured soft, urgent sounds that Nico couldn’t make into words.

“Akhlys did what she does best,” Cardea said with a sigh. “So messy.”

Nico swallowed, pulling his arms around himself and curling inward. “So how can you help?”

Cardea glanced up at Nico quickly before letting her gaze fall on Jason again. She knelt down a little by the couch, where he’d turned his face slightly into the pillow.

“She did a number on him, but she did do what he asked,” Cardea explained with a low, gentle voice. “His memories are back—in some form. But just like with Achelois, they’re warped with the intent of it. Meaning what he remembers right now, it’s worse than before.”

Nico’s chest tightened. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s alright,” Cardea said. “Because I know how to set it right.”

“How?”

“By opening all the doors,” Cardea said simply. She pressed two fingers to Jason’s forehead with purpose. After a few long moments, his face relaxed, his mutterings slowing until he was quiet again.

He got so still it was almost unsettling.

“The doors in his dreams,” Nico said. “You put those there?”

Cardea stood back up, brushing her hands off and letting out a short breath.

She turned to Nico. “Indeed. It was all a matter of what was locked when he was asleep, what was locked when he was awake. It kept things… steady.”

“Right.” Nico studied Jason’s face. And he just felt _too much._

“He’ll be asleep for a while,” Cardea told him. “While his memories sort themselves out again. You should stay until he wakes up. Make sure he’s not alone. It’ll be strange for him.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nico assured quietly. At least, not until Jason woke up, not until he was sure Jason was okay. After that…

Well, after that, maybe it was time for Nico give himself some time. Some space. Some air to breathe.

Cardea smiled at him warmly. “Good,” she said.

She took another moment to look back down at Jason, stroking his hair back once with a careful hand, before turning to walk out the door.

Nico didn’t see the door open or close, but she was gone.

Completely drained, Nico took a deep breath. He sank down to the floor by the couch, leaning back against it, craning his neck so he could look at Jason’s peacefully sleeping face.

It was too much. It was just too much for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Comments always appreciated, and you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr!


	12. to fix what's broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re here, I’m here, we get to decide what happens next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! And also maybe an epilogue after that, but don't hold me to that. We'll see.

_First, it was his mother’s face. He didn’t see Achelois anymore, no, no more sugar-coated memories of a mom who cared about him, who would never abandon him—no, now he saw the cruel, harsh expression of a woman who resented him, who blamed him for everything that ever went wrong in her life. The sharp sting of a strike across his cheek, the sounds of screaming, the curl of her lip as she looked down on him in cold disdain. And she abandoned him, because her hating him didn’t hurt enough—she left him behind to fend for himself, and he was too young to understand anything beyond the fear and the pain and the confusion. What had he done wrong, why did she hate him, why was he not good enough? Was it always going to be like this? Crying until his throat got sore, until his eyes stung, the cold of the night in the woods making his hands go numb—alone, he was so alone, and he didn’t understand why—_

_Then it was the wolves, but they attacked him—Lupa’s sharp merciless eyes, her cutting words, her piercing teeth—not even a shred of compassion, just hate and disgust that made the blood on his split lip taste bitter. He was worthless, she told him, she told him over and over and over and he believed it. He would never survive. He was not strong enough, and he never would be—he cried too much, he was too soft. There was no room for weakness, and that was all he had. His mother was right to leave him behind—anyone would have made the same choice, because he was never going to be worth sticking around for. Who would want him?_

_It was getting to Camp Jupiter, it was not being wanted, it was being shunned or taunted or ignored—or only praised for things he wasn’t, not really. Being told he mattered because of who his father was—why else would he matter? There was nothing else of value. He was hollow and broken and useless on his own. He knew that—and if anyone really looked at him, they’d see it, too._

_Getting hurt, calling out for help but no one came, no one ever came. Why would they? Why would anyone help him? He was supposed to be better—he wasn’t supposed to need anything from anyone. To need anything was a weakness, and if people found out that Jason was weak, they’d abandon him._

_He was bleeding, or broken, or lost, and it never mattered, because no one was willing to look out for him. No one cared enough, no one_ saw _him. He was alone, he was always alone._

_It was his friends asking too much of him, realizing he would never be what they wanted him to be. Hatred and frustration in their eyes as they looked at him and regretted letting him into their lives. Realizing he wasn’t enough—sighing their disappointments, muttering about his shortcomings. He wasn’t enough for them—they knew, he knew, everyone knew._

_It was failing to save people. Failing to protect them. Failing and failing and failing, over and over again. He could never do anything right, not under the crushing weight of what he was supposed to do, who he was supposed to be. He lost, he failed, he broke._

_Not enough, never enough._

_The memories hurt. Nothing but sharp, jagged edges, everything impossible to look at without feeling the ache of regret, the pierce of self-hate. Too heavy to bear, overwhelming him with feelings of inadequacy and heartbreak and rage and loss and anguish._

_Misery. Of course. Nothing but misery._

_And then…_

_“Hey, it’s okay,” Carlos said, smiling encouragingly. “No one is perfect on the first try.”_

_Jason, tense, was just frustrated by that. Maybe not, but_ he _was supposed to be perfect all the time. The exception to the rule. No room for mistakes, right? He had to live up to his father’s name, he had to live up to everyone’s expectations. If anyone ever had to be perfect on the first try, was expected to be perfect on the first try, it was him. Right? No room for anything else._

_“Go easy,” Carlos said. “I can hear you overthinking.”_

_“I should be better at this by now,” Jason muttered. More to himself than to Carlos. More to chide his own inadequacy._

_“There’s just the two of us here, kid,” Carlos replied. “No stakes. Just do the best you can. You’ll get better every time, I promise.”_

_Better every time. Maybe Jason could work with that._

_He took a deep breath. He’d begged Carlos to give him extra sword training; he had to be a good student. It was really nice of Carlos to even agree to this. He didn’t have to._

_“That’s it, breathe,” Carlos said. “You just try again, right? It’s okay. You’ll get it.”_

_Jason let himself believe it._

_Reyna looked pretty in the moonlight._

_Jason knew that people had been whispering about them, a little bit. He wasn’t sure what a crush was supposed to feel like, but he knew he liked Reyna, that she was beautiful and confident and smart. He admired her. Maybe that was what a crush was._

_They’d been doing this for a while, sneaking out to watch meteor showers. Jason loved the stars. It made him feel small, awed. There was always going to be so much about the world that he didn’t know or understand, and he found that comforting._

_He hated feeling important. It made him afraid, though he could never quite explain why. It was the kind of complicated tangle of emotions that was hard to verbalize._

_“Should we?” Reyna whispered, jerking him back into the moment._

_“Should we what?” Jason asked, blinking._

_She smiled a little. Almost shyly, which was strange to see. Reyna was always so sure of herself._

_“I don’t know,” she said. “Kiss, I guess? Just to try. See what we feel.”_

_Jason stared at her. He didn’t know how she was always so brave._

_He smiled back. He’d never kissed anyone before. His best friend, on a night like this, under the stars—it seemed like a pretty good first._

_He leaned in slowly, trying to quell his nerves. As their lips met, he felt warm, safe. The kiss lasted all of five seconds, maybe, but it was nice. He didn’t feel any more certain than he had before about where they stood, but maybe that was its own answer._

_They glanced at each other after they pulled away, both letting out soft laughs, breaking through the tension._

_Gwen and Dakota thought it was so cool when Jason became praetor._

_“We gotta celebrate, right?” Dakota was saying, practically gushing. “Brownies in New Rome! It’s the occasion for it.”_

_For the first time probably ever, Jason wanted to pass up the brownies. If it was for any other reason, he’d love to go into New Rome with his friends, get brownies, and hang out, but this… Jason just didn’t see a reason to celebrate the promotion, that was all._

_“Guys, you know I start work tomorrow right?” Jason said. “Meaning I’ll be waking up even earlier.”_

_“Come on,” Gwen said, nudging his arm and grinning at him. “Live a little. It’s worth celebrating.”_

_“It’ll be my treat,” Dakota interjected, his voice insistent. “We’re just proud of you, dude.”_

_Proud of him for what? He hadn’t done anything, not really. He’d defeated the Titan Krios, but people had sacrificed themselves so that he could get close enough to._

_He got promoted because of a war. Because people were getting hurt all around them, because people were dying. It wasn’t an accomplishment he wanted to claim as a victory. The fact that he was in this position at all was just another tangible result of all the casualties they’d suffered._

_And even if there wasn’t that baggage lurking, Jason didn’t want the role. He didn’t ask for it. He just knew, as with everything else, that it was what he was supposed to do. Another expectation to try and fulfill._

_“I just want to be ready, y’know?” Jason said. “Gotta get enough rest. No way Reyna will go easy on me just because it’s my first day.”_

_“You work too hard,” Gwen said, shaking her head._

_Dakota looked a little disappointed. “Dude, it’s not even that late.”_

_“Another time, I swear,” Jason said. Hoping, at least, that by the time that came, the novelty of his promotion would’ve worn off._

_Dakota shoved Jason’s shoulder. “Fine,” he said with a sigh, but he shot Jason a grin. “Get to sleep, Grace.”_

_He was standing in his cabin at Camp Half-Blood, feeling distinctly out of place. Strange._

_He wished he remembered more. He wished he could understand where he came from, why he knew so much and so little at the same time. He wanted answers._

_In that cabin, he found one._

_One stubborn sliver of an answer. Cold comfort, all things considered, but still an answer._

_In the shape of a picture of a girl that he recognized on a gut level._

You should be dead— _the first thing Chiron had said when he got to camp. He felt it, too—not that exactly, just the entire wrongness of the situation. Maybe it wasn’t that he should be dead, but he sure as hell shouldn’t have been here. He didn’t belong here. He knew that._

_Or at least—_

_He knew it on an instinctual level until he saw that picture._

_He asked Annabeth what her last name was, and—_

“Grace. Thalia Grace.”

_Finally—finally, something to hold onto. Something he knew._

_His sister._

_His memories of Camp Jupiter were foggy and distant, but he could reach a few of them. He remembered enough to know how he felt there—_

_It was his home, and there was so much he loved there, but he had been underwater when it came to the pressure and expectations that he’d been forced to deal with. He had friction with the way the place was run—growing up there was hard, and he was so frustrated that no one seemed to want anything to change._

_He tried so hard at Camp Jupiter, all the time, and it was just never enough. Nothing he ever did there felt like it was enough._

_And now, they were making plans to go back there—Leo building that ship, Annabeth setting the course. Finalizing… everything. They were all part of this big prophecy that Jason felt like he’d known about his whole life._

_He wished, distantly, that he wasn’t part of it._

_He was sitting up by Thalia’s tree, sort of wishing she were there wish him._

_His wish wasn’t granted, but Piper did show up, as the sun was sinking down._

_“Hey,” she greeted softly. “I was looking for you.”_

_Jason smiled. “You found me.”_

_“Leo says it’ll be one more month,” she said, sitting down next to him, her knee pressed against his thigh. “You ready?”_

_Jason’s first instinct was to say yes._

_“No,” he replied honestly. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”_

_Piper looked a little sad, glancing down at the ground in front of them._

_“It’ll be weird for you,” she said. “Won’t it?”_

_It sounded like she was asking a different question, one that Jason couldn’t hear. He didn’t know how to answer._

_Leo had been acting strange—_

_Well, stranger than usual, in any case. Strange was sort of Leo’s default._

_But he’d been avoiding everyone, not sleeping enough, not eating enough. There was a lot going on, so it took longer than it should have for Jason to notice—but he was getting worried. Something was definitely up with Leo, and he wasn’t talking about it._

_It was until Asclepius that Jason started getting really scared, though._

_The way he’d looked at Leo…_

_After knowing exactly what had been wrong with Jason and Piper, before they were even really aware of it, Asclepius looked at Leo with this grim, expression. Like he wanted to apologize to Leo—like there was no hope left for him._

_Jason wasn’t stupid. He knew the prophecy—he knew that the prophecy meant that either he or Leo was supposed to die. And he intended to make sure it was him._

_But… Leo had brushed off the way Asclepius had looked at him. Leo had been acting strange. Leo knew something was really wrong, and he was hiding from it. He was lying about it._

_Json managed to catch Leo alone, just for a moment, in the halls of the Argo II._

_Leo looked cagey, not-so-subtly backing away like he was trying to escape._

_“Leo, talk to me,” Jason damn near begged._

_“What about, Superman?” Leo said, aiming for a breezy tone and missing. He winced like he could hear how strained his tone sounded. “Look, we really gotta rest. Big day tomorrow, right?”_

_“Leo—” Jason tried again._

_Leo’s forced grin faltered. “Don’t worry about it, Jason,” he said, quieter. “Seriously.”_

_And he practically bolted before Jason could say anything else._

_And fuck, Jason was so scared._

_Nico groaned, leaning back against the wall heavily._

_“Will keeps nagging me into going to more camp events,” he muttered._

_Jason cast him a sidelong glance, smiling fondly. “That’s a good thing, though, isn’t it? People want you around. It’s nice.”_

_Nico curled in on himself a little bit, frowning down at the floor. He twisted at the ring on his finger. “I guess. I don’t know.”_

_Jason nudged Nico gently with his elbow. It was nice, to be allowed this kind of casual intimacy with Nico. He never stiffened up when Jason touched him, which always made Jason feel warmer. He tried not to think too much about that. “What is it?” Jason asked._

_Nico sighed, squeezing his eyes closed. “It’s just… Okay, I guess it’s nice that they’re all—I don’t know, making an effort now, but it doesn’t exactly erase the years I spent feeling like an outsider. It’s not like I get invited to a couple campfires and suddenly feel welcome, like everything is totally fine.”_

_Jason was quiet for a few moments. He hadn’t exactly been around for all of that. If he had been, he liked to believe that things might’ve been different for Nico. A nice thought, anyway, whether or not it was true._

_“I don’t think anyone’s expecting you to feel comfortable all at once,” Jason offered lightly._

_Nico shook his head. “They are, though. They want to just… skip ahead, but it doesn’t work like that. I don’t work like that.”_

_They were hiding out together in Cabin 13 after lunch—the place looked a lot more like Nico than it used to. It was a lot more comfortable now, since it really felt like Nico belonged there._

_Jason was quiet for a few moments, note sure exactly what he wanted to say._

_“If they’re sincere, they’ll be willing to be patient,” he said carefully._

_Nico shot him a wry smile. “What, like you were?”_

_Jason grinned back, feeling warm at Nico’s teasing tone. “Hey, I was patient.”_

_Nico rolled his eyes. “Sure you were.”_

_“I was!” Jason replied. He paused, frowning. “I wasn’t impatient. I was determined. Totally different.”_

_“Determined is a word for it,” Nico agreed with a small laugh._

_And Jason’s heart swelled. He really loved Nico’s laugh—soft and hesitant, but so warm. Like he was still getting used to it again. Jason could’ve listened to it forever. And he thought, not for the first time, that he was so lucky to be allowed to hear it._

_It only happened a couple times, that Jason fell asleep in Cabin 13. It was accidental each time—he’d never have felt like he could ask Nico to impose like that. Usually, the times he stayed past curfew, Jason would just sneak back to Cabin 1, with a small sinking feeling in his chest. Trying, as always, to desperately ignore what he really wanted._

_This time, Jason had been lying on the floor next to Nico’s bed, and they’d been talking, and they both drifted off before they noticed what was happening._

_Jason wasn’t sure what time it was when he groggily blinked awake, cold from the chill of the floor._

_It took him a few moments to notice what had woken him up._

_Nico was whimpering softly from above him on the bed. His hand was hanging off the side, twitching like he was trying to grasp something just out of his reach._

_Jason stilled, not sure what to do. He knew that Nico got nightmares, but he’d never been there to see it before. The noises Nico was making were soft and broken, and Jason could feel his heart beating harder against his ribs. He wanted to help._

_Tentatively, he reached a hand up, brushing his fingertips against Nico’s._

_Immediately, Nico grabbed his hand tightly, still asleep. Jason could feel him trembling._

_Jason ran a thumb over Nico’s knuckles._

_“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here. You’re safe.”_

_Nico let out a soft breath, like he heard Jason’s reassurance._

_For a moment, it crossed Jason’s mind to tell Nico how he felt. He caught the thought before it got too far, pulling it back from the edge. He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t, for so many reasons. But the words felt like they were in his throat, making it harder to breathe._

_“I love you,” Jason said, quiet enough that Nico wouldn’t have been able to hear it, even if he were awake. Just a little bit, the tension in Jason’s chest eased._

_It had been a while since Jason had visited Camp Half-Blood._

_School in California had been keeping him busy, along with tracking down all the minor gods and goddesses he needed to talk to. It had been a lot to juggle, and he’d been just barely managing. With trying to figure out how to stay friend with Piper, with having a hard time finding a good moment to talk to Nico, with Camp Jupiter still requesting his help with classes…_

_Well, it was a lot._

_He had some business to deal with, talking to Chiron about how to set up temples for the minor gods around Camp Half-Blood. There were fewer strict guidelines there than at Camp Jupiter, so the meeting went okay, and then Jason was happy to just be able to hang around Camp Half-Blood for a minute, getting a rare chance to breathe._

_And a rare chance to see Nico in person again. He’d tried to Iris Message a few times, but Nico seemed to be busy a lot. They hadn’t gotten to talk much. Jason missed him. More than he wanted to admit to himself._

_He caught sight of Will near the Big House when he was leaving the meeting and called out to him._

_Will greeted him with a wide, easy smile. “Hey, Jason! Good to see you!”_

_Jason smiled back. He liked Will. He was glad that Nico and Will were getting along—Nico deserved that, he deserved to be happy with someone kind and thoughtful._

_“Good to see you, too, man,” Jason said. “I was hoping you could tell me where Nico is?”_

_Will laughed a little. “I see how it is,” he said with a faux glare._

_Jason put his hands up. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, too.”_

_“Nah, I get it, I think he’s been missing you too,” Will said. Jason pretended like his heart didn’t beat a little harder at that. “He should just be in Cabin 13.”_

_“Thanks,” Jason said. He lingered for a moment. “Hey, I’m happy for you two.”_

_Will’s smiled brightened. “Thanks! I’m happy for us too, you know?”_

_As Jason headed over to Cabin 13, he felt himself getting nervous. He really had missed Nico a lot—he missed just sitting on the floor of the cabin with him, talking about nothing. He missed that safety and comfort he felt._

_“Will, I’m really not—” Nico was starting to say before he got the door open. He cut off abruptly and froze when his eyes met Jason’s. “Oh. Jason. Hey.”_

_His voice was tight and forced, and he looked a little panicked._

_Jason tried a smile. “Hey, Nico. Can I come in?”_

_Wordlessly, Nico stepped aside. He was gripping the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Jason stepped passed him and Nico closed the door behind them._

_The cabin looked the same, if a little messier. More lived in._

_Nico crossed his arms over his chest. “What, um—What are you doing here?”_

_“I had a meeting with Chiron. Temple building logistics.” There was something odd, something different, about the air between them. There was a tension that hadn’t been there before._

_Jason didn’t really understand. He’d always been so comfortable with Nico—he thought Nico had been comfortable with him, too. They’d been able to feel at ease together. Now, there was a buzzing static surrounding them. Maybe something had changed since they’d been apart._

_“Mm.” Nico wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. “How long are you going to be here?”_

_“Trying to get rid of me already?” Jason was aiming for a joking tone, but he didn’t think he quite hit the mark. Especially when Nico shot him a slightly pained look. Jason cleared his throat. “Just today. I’m leaving again tomorrow morning.”_

_And at that, Nico looked a little disappointed, too, which just confused Jason more._

_“Oh.” Nico rubbed the back of his neck. “Um. Busy with school?”_

_“Yeah, kind of,” Jason said. “Also Camp Jupiter is just more complicated to deal with, so…”_

_“Right.”_

_“They need more from me.”_

_“Mhm.”_

_Jason felt like he needed to justify himself, but he wasn’t sure why. Or for what._

_“I’m here tonight, though,” Jason said. “So, uh… Thought we could hang out? I’ve missed you.”_

_Nico looked genuinely pained by that for a moment, too._

_He cleared his throat, and his tightened expression faded into something a little more unreadable. He rubbed at the back of his neck._

_“Um, yeah. Sure thing, Grace,” Nico said, his voice distant._

_It wasn’t quite as comfortable as they’d been before, but—_

_Gods, Jason was just so happy to be with Nico that he barely noticed that strange tension after a while. There were a few moments where he nearly choked on unsaid words, where he had to bite his tongue to hold back from emotions bubbling over._

_He thought, a couple times, about how much he wanted to stay. More than anything else in those moments, he just wanted to stay._

_Jason stretched out on his bed in his dorm room, trying to regulate his breathing as best he could._

_The fight with Nico had drained and confused him. Not to mention how much it had hurt—he didn’t understand what had happened, what had gone wrong, and the fact that he didn’t know how to process it kept the sting of it fresh._

_He just kept circling around how he could’ve handled it better. Maybe showing up unannounced was a bad choice. Maybe he should’ve kept his patience, stuck to Iris Messages—rather than, as Nico had put it, ambushing him. Maybe he should’ve been clearer, reacted better, been more understanding, only—_

_How could he be understanding, when he couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened in the first place?_

_And what now, was it just over? Was that really what Nico wanted?_

_Jason didn’t want to believe that, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he genuinely didn’t think Nico was being honest with him, or if he was just trying to protect himself from how much that would hurt him._

_He sighed, the lights in the room flickering around him._

_A lot of what Nico had said had been transparently trying to push him away, regardless of whether it was true, but then—_

Just leave me alone, Jason.

_That had sounded too raw. Too sincere. Whatever the reasons, Nico really did want Jason to leave him alone. Jason couldn’t make himself stay after that, no matter how much he wanted to know what was really going on._

_Styx, it really hurt. He didn’t know what to do._

_Maybe, whatever this was, it wasn’t fixable._

_What could he do with that?_

_Jason had never really been afraid to die._

_He’d grown up a soldier, raised by a goddess who knew he was going to be a hero, raised by a wolf, raised by the legion in New Rome. He’d always known that there might come a day when he’d had to sacrifice himself to save others._

_He’d even thought that the day had already come before—he’d expected to be the one to die in the prophecy of the seven. He would’ve been, if Leo hadn’t beaten him to it._

_So he skipped right past the other stages of grief into acceptance when he knew what was going to happen to him. What had to happen. It was inevitable—there was no getting out of it, and like hell was he going to watch someone else sacrifice the way he’d had to watch Leo. He’d definitely rather die than do that over again._

_He did, though, have a fleeting thought one night about the unfairness of it._

_He’d never asked for this. And there was so much left for him to do. So much left for him to be._

_But he had to let go of that, because what else could he do?_

_It was inevitable._

_He wrote Nico one last letter, just to say what he needed to say._

**Hey, Nico.**

**I guess I don’t really know what to say. Or how to say it.**

**I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I’m sorry for leaving Camp Half-Blood last summer, and I’m sorry for whatever I did, whatever happened between us, that made you avoid me. I’m sorry that the last time we talked, it was a fight, because I wasn’t patient enough, and I’m sorry I left again instead of trying harder. I’m sorry that we aren’t what we were anymore, and I’m sorry for whatever part I played in ruining that for us. And now I’m sorry for this, too, I guess. By the time you get this, I assume you’ll know what I’m sorry for.**

**I’m just really, really sorry. I need you to know that.**

**I need you to know something else, too. I guess knowing I’ll never have to face it makes me braver. Or maybe it makes me more selfish, because it’s been eating at me, and I don’t want to let things go unsaid between us. I wanted to always be honest with you—and I guess I’ll apologize again. I’m sorry I haven’t been honest.**

**It seems like this should be easier—telling you through writing, without having to see your face or deal with any of the fallout. It isn’t, though. I’ve stopped myself from telling you so many times at this point that I’m not sure I really have the words anymore. But I can try, because I think I owe you that much. Maybe I owe us both that much.**

**I owe you the truth, and here it is: I love you, Nico. I’m in love with you, and I have been for a while. Maybe since that day I told you to take a chance and trust that I was really your friend. The entire time, I loved you. I never told you, because it took me a while to realize. And I was with Piper, and then you were with Will, and even beyond that, I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t think that was what you needed from me. I never wanted to make things harder for you—I really wanted to be your friend, and I didn’t want to add more complications to your life.**

**Or maybe I was just afraid of losing you, and that was just what I told myself to justify not telling you. It always felt like lying, not telling you the depths of what I felt, and maybe I was afraid you’d hate me for it. Maybe it was easier to not take the risk. Ironic, really, that I asked you to take the chance that I was your friend, but I couldn’t have the courage to tell you I loved you.**

**I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, right? Whatever my reasons were, I never told you, and now I never really will.**

**I still wanted you to know, though. If I have to go out like this, I at least wanted you to know the truth. Before it died with me.**

**Even though we’ve seen each other for the last time, and maybe we’re not really friends anymore, I still wanted you to know. And maybe that’s selfish of me. Maybe I get to be selfish one last time.**

**I’m sorry. I love you. That’s what I need to say.**

**This letter could’ve been so much shorter, but there it is.**

**Sincerely,**

**Jason**

_He wrote that last letter. But he never sent it._

_He’d gotten it off his chest, at least—it was probably better that he not bother. Nico had been through enough._

_So Jason would die with words still caught inside him—words he’d never gotten to say to his sister, his friends, the guy he loved. It was fine. Regrets, feelings left unsaid, apologies held back—these were all things that Jason could bear._

_Not everyone got to have an ending that made sense._

\---

Jason remembered…

Jason remembered everything.

He remembered Camp Jupiter, too. He remembered meeting Reyna, he remembered getting that tattoo on his arm, when he was too young to understand what it meant. He remembered Lupa, her stern, cold glare. He _remembered._

With a pounding headache, Jason blinked awake, the artificial light from a nearby lamp in his eyes.

_Everything._

His whole life. There it was, right in front of him.

Not foggy and distant through the mist. Not coated in honey, swept up in painlessness. Not weighed down with just the worst of it.

It clicked into place, and he knew who he was again.

The relief was enough to shatter through everything else. He took a long, shaky breath, feeling the air in his lungs like it was the first real time. He flexed his hands, remembering—how it felt to hold Julius for the first time, how it felt to put a palm to Reyna’s face when she first told him about her family, how it felt to thread his fingers with Piper’s, how it felt to grasp the side of the Argo II, the bronze against his skin.

_Gods._

Everything, all of it. It was _there._ It was there and it was in perfect, gleaming clarity.

He even, in the faintest memories of his childhood, remembered his mother. Not a lot—just a kind smile, just the sounds of yelling, just her hand letting go of his in the woods. She was _real_ to him again. No false kindness, no faceless cruelty. Just an imperfect woman who loved him and hated him and abandoned him.

He knew where he came from. He knew the streets of New Rome, he knew the Californian sky, he knew the soft fabric of the purple shirt he’d worn with pride. He knew that he loved Camp Jupiter, that he hated it, too, that his feelings about growing up there were frustrating and tangled and complicated. It was the place that saved him, and the place that taught him to sacrifice himself, told him to grow up too fast. It saved his life, and it pushed him towards his death. It was home, and it wasn’t, and he cared so much about it, and he’d wanted to run away most of his life.

He knew. He knew who he was—

Jason Grace, Praetor Grace, Son of Jupiter. He was a leader when he didn’t want to be, and he had responsibilities that he accepted but that he’d never asked for, and he tried to be good, and he tried to be perfect, and he tried to see what was wrong in the world and make it just a little bit better. He tried, every day, and that was who he was at his core.

He knew.

He pulled himself up, glancing around his apartment. It looked different, somehow. Everything looked different.

Including the guy who was staring at him from across the room.

When Jason stood up, slightly shakily, Nico did, too. They stood facing each other, too far apart, Jason feeling each inch of the distance between them in every breath he took.

Nico was looking up at him, eyes widened. “Jason?” he said. Tentatively. Almost like he was nervous.

Jason’s heart ached at the sight of him. Gods, he was so different—taller, his jaw sharper. He wasn’t curled in on himself protectively, the way Jason had seen him so many times when they were teenagers. He looked steadier, like he had grown into himself.

_I’m sorry I missed it._

Jason wished he could’ve seen how Nico had changed, grown. He’d wanted to be there—it was a sad, numbing regret that he hadn’t been.

But he was here now. He was here, and he was himself, and he _remembered._

And he knew.

“Nico,” Jason breathed out, desperately happy to see him. Desperately happy to _know_ him.

He moved towards Nico, hesitating for a moment when he went to hug him. Nico’s mouth twitched and he nodded slightly. Jason grinned, wrapping his arms around Nico tightly.

Nico slowly hugged him back. Like he was uncertain.

Well. He might’ve been uncertain, but Jason sure as hell wasn’t.

“So, do you—” Nico started, his voice muffled against Jason’s shoulder.

“Everything. I remember everything.”

“Oh—” Nico’s voice cracked. “Um. Good. That’s good.”

Jason pulled back, keeping a hand on Nico’s arm.

He studied Nico’s face carefully. Memorizing the details. Memorizing the new freckles, the press of his lips, the way his eyes flicked across Jason’s face.

“I should get the others,” Nico said, his voice low. “Let them know we’re back, that you remember now.”

He started to pull away, casting his gaze down and shifting his arm out of Jason’s grasp.

“Wait,” Jason said.

Nico glanced up at him, looking pained. “Jason…”

There was something strange in his voice. Like a strangled, hopeless warning.

“I never really forgot you,” Jason said. Remembering the absence that Nico had left, in that other life of his.

“I can’t do this with you right now,” Nico said quietly.

“Can you just… let me say it?” Jason replied softly. There was no way Nico didn’t know what he was trying to tell him. Not at this point. He had to know. After all this, he had to know.

Nico didn’t reply. His expression tightened and his gaze locked onto Jason’s. Jason was left breathless by the intensity in his eyes. It was everything he remembered falling in love with—this beautiful, mercurial guy, smart and selfless and stubborn. It was everything. _He_ was everything.

“I love you,” Jason said, and it was like that first breath of air after you break through the surface of the water, the depths of relief in your lungs.

Meanwhile, for a moment, it looked like Nico stopped breathing entirely. Like all the air in the room had swept away in the wind. With a slightly strangled, cut-off gasp, his face went slack, the semi-controlled expression slipping away, and his eyed widened.

With something like panic, something like fear, but something like hope, too. And love. Deep and present and aching.

If Jason had any doubts before, he didn’t now. He’d suspected, he’d known, he was certain.

Nico loved him, too.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Nico said softly, half to himself.

“Yeah, I do.”

With a small, breakable shard of courage lodged in his chest, Jason reached out, brushing the hair back from Nico’s forehead. Like he’d daydreamed of when they were teenagers. Like he’d thought about when he didn’t remember that.

Just a gentle, simple gesture. Small, in the grand scheme of things.

Nico shifted away.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice quiet and bare.

“Nico—” Jason started.

“No,” Nico interrupted. “Just _don’t.”_

“Why not?” Jason asked softly. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

“I don’t know _what_ I want,” Nico bit out, a defensive edge in his voice. “And neither do you, Grace.”

“I want you,” Jason said simply.

Nico scoffed. “You don’t _know_ me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You don’t. Not anymore. We’re not those kids anymore, Jason.” Nico sighed, turning away. His lips were pressed in a thin line, his eyes growing hard and flinty against the light.

“So what? You’ve changed, I’ve changed. It happens. But you’re not a different _person,_ Nico. You’re the same guy who made me feel—shit, like I _mattered,_ outside of any prophecy, outside of who I was supposed to be. You’re the same guy who understood me without explanation.” Jason took a breath, frustrated, helpless, a little bit angry. Sometimes, things were simple. Like feelings he’d never had to question, like things he knew to be true. “I loved you then, Nico. I still do.”

“You _can’t,”_ Nico muttered. He scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face before meeting Jason’s gaze again, sharp, hurt anger in his eyes. “Whatever you _think_ you feel, Grace, keep it to yourself. I can’t—I can’t go _through_ this, alright? You didn’t then, you don’t now, just _stop.”_

Jason let out a short scoff. “No. No, you don’t get to tell me this isn’t real. _Especially_ not you.”

“I don’t _care_ if this feels real to you. You’re not dragging me back into it.” Nico’s glare was darkening, the room developing a chill around him. “ _Especially_ not you,” he threw back at Jason.

“I’m not trying to _drag_ you back into anything,” Jason argued back. He wasn’t sure when this turned into a fight.

“You are. You are, and I—I just _can’t._ Leave me out of this, Grace, I’m serious.”

“I would’ve told you back then,” Jason said, lowering his voice. He took another step closer, and Nico’s glare got sharper.

“Don’t,” Nico said, warning in his tone.

“I wanted to,” Jason went on. “Gods, Nico, I wanted to tell you so bad, you have no idea.”

“Stop. I _need_ you to stop this.”

“I don’t know how to say it in a way that you’ll believe,” Jason said. He could hear a thread of desperation in his tone. “But I _know_ you know that I would never lie to you about something like this. And I _know_ what I feel for you is real. I have never been more sure about my feelings than I am with you. Nico, I love you. I loved you when you found me that day on the street, even without remembering why or how. I loved you when you had stopped talking to me. I loved you when I sent all those postcards. I loved you when I asked you to trust me and you said you would—I loved you when you asked _me_ to trust you and I already did. And that’s _real.”_

Nico took a step back. Somewhere along the line, he’d dropped his gaze away from Jason’s.

“That’s a nice speech, Grace,” Nico said. Ice in his tone. Jason’s heart twisted. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

“What’s there to _change?”_ Jason retorted.

“You don’t get it,” Nico said.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Jason replied. “Nico, I _love_ you, and—”

“So _what_ if you love me?” Nico snapped, spreading his arms. “Fine, okay, I believe you. But I don’t _care.”_

Jason ignored the sting that came with _that,_ pressing on.

“Tell me you don’t love me back, then,” Jason replied. “Say that, and I’ll drop it right now.”

Nico let out a sharp sigh. “That doesn’t matter either. Okay? Listen, because I need you to hear me, Grace. We are not those kids, I am _not_ going back, and love does not conquer all.”

“Nico…” Jason breathed out. He wanted to reach for Nico again. Desperately. This _couldn’t_ be it. This couldn’t be where they broke. That many years, all those miles, Jason’s feelings for Nico were as strong as they ever had been. It couldn’t end here.

“Losing you,” Nico started slowly, “nearly killed me the first time.”

“So, what, you’d rather not have me at all?” Jason replied.

“I don’t know,” Nico sighed, exhaustion laced into it. He dragged a hand down his face. “Maybe.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jason said bluntly.

“You don’t _get_ it,” Nico said. “You weren’t _there._ You got to—you got to fucking skip the hard part, alright? Of _course_ it seems easy to you—you just showed up again and it’s like no time has passed. You got to _forget._ I _grieved_ for you. It has been _eight fucking years._ It is not that simple, and you don’t get to pretend like it is, because _you don’t understand.”_

“ _Got_ to forget?” Jason echoed. “That’s—okay, that’s _not_ fair, you _know_ it’s not. And… it _could_ be that simple.”

“No,” Nico said. “It can’t.”

“Why not? We can make it that simple, Nico. You’re here, I’m here, we get to decide what happens next.”

“What, like _you_ decided what happened next when you walked into your own death without so much as _telling_ anyone? Without asking for help? Without _trying_ to—” Nico cut himself off. He clamped his mouth shut, leaning back slightly, like he was surprised the words had come out. Like he hadn’t meant to say it.

“Nico—” Jason started.

Nico shook his head. “No, you know what, it’s _fine._ It’s fine, because I always knew who you were, and how could I have expected anything else from you, right? It’s _fine._ You chose to die, you chose to leave, _whatever.”_

“I didn’t—it’s not like I _wanted_ to,” Jason replied. “If there’d been another option—”

“There is _always_ another option,” Nico interrupted harshly. “There is _always_ an option other than sacrificing yourself. Leo found one.”

Jason blinked. “I’m—I’m not Leo. I can’t—I don’t—”

“No, I _know._ I know that you decided that it would be _better,_ to just _bravely_ face your death. To just…” Nico let out a short huff. As he looked away, Jason caught the way his eyes glimmered, like he was just barely not crying.

“It was the right thing to do,” Jason said.

Nico met his gaze, glaring. Bitter, tired anger in his eyes, along with some too-bare hurt. It was raw in a way that made Jason want to look away.

“No, it wasn’t,” Nico said through gritted teeth. “If you really think that it was, why don’t you ask Piper what she would’ve wanted you to do?”

“She wouldn’t—”

“What, she wouldn’t _understand?_ Jason, it was you or her, right? Don’t you think she deserved a say in that, too? Or do you always have to make yourself the casualty?” Nico’s voice was straining against the words.

“It wasn’t—that wasn’t what it was,” Jason replied.

“It was, though!” Nico’s voice just fully broke, rising in pitch. A tear slipped through his eyelashes. “And the fact that you can’t _see_ that—”

Jason blinked. He opened his mouth, but he was at a loss for what he could say. He hadn’t wanted to die. But he hadn’t tried to stop it either. He let it play out, the way he’d always known it would have to at some point. Maybe it was a truth he’d told himself enough times that he’d grown numb to how terrifying and unfair it was.

Nico let out a breath, brushing the tear back from his cheek. Another fell to replace it. He huffed with annoyance as he brushed that one back, too.

“This is pointless,” he muttered. “I can’t…”

“Nico, I’m—I’m _sorry,”_ Jason said, his hand moving towards Nico’s face on its own before he caught himself and pulled it back.

“Are you, though?” Nico replied quietly. “Are you sorry you did it?”

“I’m sorry for leaving you,” Jason said.

Nico shook his head. “But you wouldn’t take it back,” he said. No question in his tone.

“It turned out okay,” Jason offered lightly. “I’m here now.”

“You were _gone._ You were _dead,”_ Nico replied. “Eight _years,_ Jason.”

“I know you’re scared,” Jason said softly.

Nico let out a slightly bitter laugh. “Figure that out all on your own?” he replied dryly.

Despite everything, despite all the heaviness in the air between them, Jason actually smiled a little, with some affection.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

“How am I supposed to believe you?” Nico retorted without heat.

“Let me prove it to you,” Jason said, with quiet conviction.

Nico’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed.

“No.”

That one syllable sent splinters through Jason’s heart. At a certain point, he wasn’t sure if there was anything left he could say.

Nico put up a hand before Jason could try to find more words. “I need _space._ I—I can’t be around you right now.”

“Nico—”

“This isn’t up for debate.”

Jason’s hand stilled in the air where he’d been reaching out for Nico again without thinking. He stifled a sigh, frustration itching at his chest.

_I know you feel it, too._

But what was he supposed to say? He couldn’t force Nico into admitting it, or accepting it. He couldn’t force Nico to be _ready,_ the way that he was _._ He wouldn’t want to, either. He dropped his hand back to his side, feeling a little helpless. He knew how he felt. He knew what he wanted.

He just had to be patient. He had to _believe_ that they meant too much to get lost here. He hadn’t been in love with this guy for the better part of a decade for them to fall apart before anything had the chance to begin.

He had to believe that there was more to their story.

“Okay,” Jason said softly. “Okay, I—okay.”

He could wait. If Nico needed space, if he needed time, Jason could wait. They’d waited this long already.

For a moment, Nico looked as helpless as Jason felt. Like he wanted this, too, and regretted that they couldn’t stand on the same solid ground. “I—I’m _sorry,_ Jason, I just—” he said. “I can’t—”

Nico was gone before he finished the sentence, melting into the shadows.

And Jason didn’t blame Nico for hating him for dying—right then, he hated himself for it, too.

\---

_Coward._

Maybe.

The thought was pretty relentless, that he was a coward for running, but…

Gods, maybe he just needed some space to breathe, was there anything wrong with that? He couldn’t handle…

This. _Him._

_I love you._

Nico never would’ve imagined just how much it could _hurt_ to hear those words. Physical, piercing pain—like his ribs were tightening and cracking from the pressure. It was too much, it was too _fucking_ much. He was finding it hard to breathe. And stay upright. It was like there were pieces of him crumbling off and scattering in the wind, and he just—

He just needed _a fucking minute._

Tartarus never scared him this much. If Nico’s being honest, he wasn’t sure _anything_ had ever scared him quite like this. This fear, it was paralyzing and overwhelming. It was dark, debilitating, stuck in his veins. He could feel his flight instinct in his fingertips.

He felt like he was underwater. Like he didn’t know which direction the surface was and he was running out of air.

_Okay, focus. First thing’s first._ He couldn’t leave Jason alone in there. For all that he needed to get away from Jason and that too-intense gaze as fast as he could, he couldn’t let Jason deal with the fallout of his memories on his own.

So Nico gave himself permission to run away, but not before he brought someone back to stay with Jason for this.

He shadowtraveled into Percy and Annabeth’s place without ceremony.

Percy practically jumped a foot in the air. “Holy shit, man!” he half-yelped, breathing heavily. “Dude, I’m so glad to see you’re okay, but _holy shit man—_ hey, where’s Jason?”

“At his apartment,” Nico replied, all business. “Piper and Leo?”

“In the living room. Hey, wait—”

Nico wasn’t interested. The faster he dealt with this, the faster he could—

“Valdez, McLean,” Nico said, walking briskly into the other room.

They looked up at him from the couch, wide-eyed. There were books open on the coffee table in front of them, seemingly abandoned as they’d been talking.

“C’mon. Got a job for you.”

He didn’t bother to do anything else before taking their hands and pulling them into the shadows with him. He ignored Hazel calling for him, Leo’s questioning look, Annabeth trying to ask him what happened.

It didn’t matter. Whatever. They’d all catch up soon enough, and Nico needed to deal with this before he could get the hell out of there.

He got a brief moment of solace in the cold of the shadows.

They ended up right outside Jason’s door. Nico pulled away from Piper and Leo like he’d been burned. They both looked a little shaken and alarmed, looking at him like they were expecting the worst. To be fair, Nico might’ve given the wrong impression. He was a little panicked, and Leo and Piper had clearly caught on to that much, at least.

“It’s, um—it’s all okay. We made it, and it worked. So Jason has all his memories back now,” he said quietly, reassuring as fast as he could. Taking another step away from the door. “He, uh—shouldn’t be alone, so.”

Piper and Leo both visibly relaxed their shoulders.

After a moment, Leo shot him a sidelong glance. “And where are you going?” he asked, pointed.

Nico looked back at him, slightly desperate. “Leo,” he said, hoping his tone would be enough.

Leo raised one hand and sighed. “Fine. Fine, do what you need to do. Just…”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed.

Piper offered him a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine. Right, Leo?”

“Sure thing,” Leo said. “We got it covered.”

“Cool. Good.” Nico cleared his throat and took a step away from the door again. “Thanks.”

“Don’t disappear on me,” Leo said. “You pay half the rent.”

Leo’s tone was joking, but there was a trace of something serious in it. Nico let out a short sigh. “I’ll be back, I just—”

Leo nodded. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Take your time,” Piper said, soft and soothing. “We’ll all be here when you come back.”

Nico did his best to shoot her a grateful smile before fading back into the darkness.

And then Nico was back in his room in the Underworld palace, letting out a breath.

His gaze caught on the bed and his throat tightened again. He could practically see the echo of Jason sitting there, the cardboard box still out with the postcards set neatly beside it.

_Fuck._

Nico could still hear his voice, the way it shook, just barely. He could still see that look in Jason’s eyes, the fear, the hurt, the hope. All of it. He could feel the tug in his heart at how much Jason was still _Jason,_ how recognizable he was, after all these years.

How he hadn’t changed, not in a way that mattered, not in a way that could close to lessen the depth of Nico’s feelings for him. He was still… He was still _him._ Determined and selfless and beautiful. Nico could still see the way he brushed his fingertips against the words he’d written, lifetimes ago.

And now, the thought coming to Nico’s mind, unwanted—

_He loved me when he wrote those words._

Too much. It was all too much.

Nico walked to the bed slowly, taking a seat as far away from the postcards as possible. Like something in their proximity was dangerous.

_Coward._

He could call himself that all day, but it wouldn’t make him any braver.

He fell back onto the bed, staring up at the high, onyx-black ceiling.

_Okay._ Okay. He could handle this. He’d lost his family. He’d run away at the age of eleven. He’d been manipulated and betrayed and hurt countless times. He’d been to Tartarus three times. There was nothing that Nico couldn’t handle.

He’d lost and suffered and fought and survived. He’d dealt with enough pain to know that nothing could ever break him, not really.

Nico let out a shaky breath, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

This whole day had been a lot to take in.

He wasn’t sure where to start. He was _exhausted._

Tartarus, Akhlys, Cardea, his feelings, _Jason’s_ feelings—

It was just so fucking much to handle.

But he wasn’t the same kid he’d been, back when all of this would’ve sent him spiraling. He’d grown up enough to know how to handle his own panic. He could do this, he could deal. Fear couldn’t break him.

_Okay._

He had to rewrite some things in his memories.

Nico had thought, back then, that he knew exactly what the deal was. He was in love with Jason, but it was never going to amount to anything, because how could it? He’d known— _known—_ that Jason would never be able to see him that way.

And now—

_I loved you then. I still do._

Part of Nico wanted to be ecstatic. Part of him, the part of him deep down that had always clung to childhood optimism, the part of him that had so desperately wanted to trust Jason the first moment he’d reached out—that part of him was ready to leap into this like he’d leapt over the edge and into Tartarus. Recklessly, with stubborn belief that things could be better, that they could be amazing, that they could be _beautiful,_ if he just found a way to let them be. That part of him that was always there, no matter how much he’d tried to hide it or kill it, the part of him that always believed.

But that part of him hadn’t been particularly loud in a really long time.

All he could think of was the way he’d broken down when he’d lost Jason as a friend—how back when he’d been trying to pull away, trying to shut himself off and quell his feelings, losing Jason had hurt so much that he couldn’t remember what it was like to not be in pain.

How today in Tartarus, watching Jason get hurt, it was _terrifying,_ and Nico had no idea what he would’ve done. If he would’ve died, too. He hadn’t felt that close to losing himself in a really long time.

How he couldn’t even picture what it would be like to hold Jason’s hand, to kiss him, to let himself love Jason, without fear gripping at his chest that all of that could vanish in a heartbeat.

How Nico was afraid every day of losing Hazel or Leo or Reyna, but he could at least trust _them_ to try and save themselves if they had to.

Jason was back, he was okay, but how long could that last?

The truth was…

Well, the truth was that Nico loved Jason, and maybe he always would. But if he broke open again, if he let Jason back in, if he made himself vulnerable…

_This is going to kill me._

He loved Jason. Fuck, he loved him so much. But when it came right down to it…

The simplest truth was that Nico wasn’t sure if he could ever fully trust Jason again.

There was a soft knock on Nico’s door, startling him. He sat up quickly, staring at the door.

The only person it could really be was Hades. Which was odd, since to his knowledge, Hades had never been in this part of the castle.

“Come in?” Nico called out, a little apprehensive.

Sure enough, it was Hades.

His father stepped into the room, similarly hesitant. He kept one hand on the door as he hovered.

“Um—” Nico wasn’t sure what to say. Half-hysterically, he wanted to laugh at the whole situation. Here he was, hiding out in his room, freaking out over a boy, and his _dad_ was coming in to check on him.

Hades took a breath, like he was steeling himself, and Nico had never seen him look more human.

“I wouldn’t have expected you back so soon,” Hades said slowly.

Nico felt a slight impulse to roll his eyes and curl in on himself like when he was a teenager.

“Easiest place to hide,” Nico muttered.

Hades hummed in agreement. He took a few more slow steps into the room. It felt so unbelievably weird, sitting in here with his dad like this was his childhood bedroom and he was home from college for the weekend. If Nico squinted enough, it almost looked like a normal life.

Imagine that.

“And you’re hiding?” Hades prompted.

“Something like that,” Nico said.

“Should I ask why?” Hades replied.

Nico paused. “Only if you want me to tell you the answer,” he said slowly. “But I think you know.”

“I might have thought you would want to… stick around the land of the living for a while,” Hades said.

“It’s, um… more complicated than that,” Nico said, rubbing the back of his neck. Now he was getting a little embarrassed, feeling himself blush with it. Add it to the list of ways this interaction was simultaneously bizarre and mundane.

“Human thing?” Hades asked. What he always said when it was something he’d have a difficult time grasping.

“Human thing,” Nico confirmed. Although he probably wouldn’t have an easy time explaining himself to a human either. This whole situation was… somewhat unprecedented, as far as Nico had seen. There wasn’t exactly a social script for how to cope with the guy you’d had unrequited feelings for dying and coming back and then _confessing._

“Persephone may be more equipped for this than I am, but alas, she is not here,” Hades said.

Nico looked down at his hands. “Why couldn’t you have just told me?” he murmured. Barely expecting an answer.

Hades was quiet for a few moments. Long enough that Nico looked up.

Hades was looking back at him with a furrowed brow, a hard set to his jaw and his mouth twisted slightly.

“The rules of what the gods are or are not allowed to do are fragile,” Hades said slowly. “It’s a balance we must be conscious of. Allowing the rules to be broken is not the same thing as breaking them.”

Nico let out a thin sigh. Sufficiently nebulous and vague, as always.

“Son, I hope you understand that I very much hoped that it would work out in the end,” Hades added. “I want you to be happy.”

“I know,” Nico replied softly. “I guess… I guess I get it. I mean, I’m still not thrilled _none_ of you told us, but I understand. It’s not that simple.”

“God things,” Hades said.

“God things,” Nico sighed back.

“Nevertheless, I _am_ sorry,” Hades said in a low tone.

Nico offered a small, slightly forced smile. “Thanks.”

Hades forced a smile back. “While you are, of course, always welcome to _hide out_ here,” he said, emphasizing the words like they were another language, “I do hope you don’t miss out on living your life.”

With that, Hades slipped back out, leaving Nico to return to his thoughts.

And he thought…

About his mother. About Italy. About Camp Half-Blood. About Percy. About Bianca. About Jason.

And he collapsed back onto to bed. Staring up at the onyx of the ceiling again.

Styx, there really was nothing that scared Nico more than having something to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to the end. Thanks for reading! Comments always appreciated, and you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr!


	13. can we get to the easy part?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll keep waiting. Another eight years, if that’s what it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are!

Having them in his apartment was a little strange.

He’d seen Piper and Leo before; he knew they’d grown, that they looked different. That they’d all changed in the last eight years. But it was a different experience to see them again once he actually got his memories back. It was an almost unsettling experience—like things were simultaneously exactly the same and irretrievably different.

Piper wasn’t the same girl he’d had that clumsy, confusing relationship with. She looked more self-possessed—she stood taller. She seemed like she knew more about herself now. He was happy for her—it was what she’d wanted, to be able to figure herself out, away from the Mist, away from the prophecy.

And Leo wasn’t the same guy Jason had last seen going up in flames with a grin and a goodbye. He was a little calmer—not by a lot, but he seemed to have less of that frenetic, nervous energy buzzing off of him. Something about him felt a little more solemn, too.

They’d changed. So had Jason, he assumed, but he couldn’t imagine what he looked like through their eyes.

Right away, Piper came over and hugged Jason tightly. She smiled at him as she pulled away, her eyes kind and warm and just a little bit teary. “Glad to have you back, Sparky,” she murmured.

Jason returned the smile. “Glad to be back.”

Leo meandered around the apartment, glancing around. “Man, your decorating skills haven’t changed,” he said.

Jason let out a short laugh. “Go easy, I just moved here.”

“It’s a nice place,” Piper offered.

“Thanks,” he replied.

“I should get you an Xbox,” Leo murmured, half to himself.

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence, where it felt like none of them knew just how to act.

“You guys got here fast,” Jason said lightly.

They exchanged a look, which told Jason all he needed to know.

“Nico got us here, but he didn’t fill us in all that much,” Piper said. “Just the bare minimum—you guys made it, it worked, your memories are back.”

Jason bit the inside of his cheek. “That about covers what happened.”

Leo shot him a look. “You sure about that?”

“I mean, if Nico didn’t say anything…”

Leo rolled his eyes. “All my friends are impossible,” he announced.

Piper sent him a sidelong look. “Like you’re one to talk.”

In response, Leo grinned and winked, continuing to circle the room, examining the walls and shelves.

Piper focused her attention back on Jason. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice kind.

“I’m… okay,” he said slowly.

“You don’t have to be.”

“I am, through.” He was pretty sure, anyway. Maybe it was just… not going to be dramatic, in the end. Maybe, this one time, they ended softly. No epic final thing. Maybe this was it. It felt…

Strange, Jason decided. It felt strange.

But… it felt okay.

It wasn’t until later, when Leo had left to pick up the take-out they’d ordered for dinner, that Jason managed to ask her.

“Hey, Pipes,” Jason said softly.

Piper shot him a warm gaze. “It feels really good to hear you call me that, you know?”

He offered a weak, wavering smile. He didn’t quite have it in him to return her warmth. He was so…

_Drained,_ he guessed was the word for it. He felt like he’d been clinging to a rope, trying to climb but not getting anywhere. He was relieved, but he was completely exhausted.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, Jason,” she replied easily. “What’s up?”

“When I—” He faltered before could get the word “died” out. It was suddenly harder to stomach, the word sending a piercing feeling down his spine. He cleared his throat, looking down. “I mean. Before it happened. It was you or me, right? That was the prophecy?”

Piper looked at him steadily. Unreadable. “That was what they told me,” she said, her words careful.

“If I’d come to you first,” he started. He cleared his throat again. “If—well, if I’d _told_ you. Before, uh… Before. What would you have said?”

Piper hesitated. “Honestly, in that moment? I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know how I would’ve reacted back then—not really. I can imagine or hope, but I’ll never really know. I’ve thought about it a lot since then, though. I know what I’d say now.”

Jason waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.

“So what would you say now?” he finally prompted.

She smiled. A small, soft smile. More to herself than to him. “I like to believe I would’ve said this back then, too. But… Now, I would tell you that prophecies don’t control us. That the gods don’t _own_ us. I would tell you that we are more than that, more than our parents and more than our supposed destinies. That it doesn’t _matter_ what any prophecy says—we know better than that. Even if Leo hadn’t proven it, we _know_ that it doesn’t matter how powerful the gods are—the future is never set in stone, and we have free will. I would tell you that we would _both_ make it through. Come hell or high water, we could figure something out.”

Jason studied her for a few moments. She seemed so sure. Maybe she was right that the gods could never own _her._ He wasn’t so sure about himself.

“That’s quite the speech,” he said.

“Can I ask _you_ something?” she said.

He nodded.

“Would you have listened to me?”

He paused, considering. _Would_ he have? He thought about his life—how _his_ choices had never seemed to matter. They barely seemed to exist. His life was never his. How would he have been able to hear her, when she told him that they were more than what they’d been given?

Truth be told, Jason was realizing how little he’d thought he’d been worth. Being told he was more than his destiny? He’d have found that hard to believe. He still did.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I mean, you can be pretty persuasive.”

Piper cracked a smile at that. “No charmspeak needed for this one. It’s the truth. Pure and simple.”

“Is it?”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but that wasn’t because I pulled a Leo and defied fate. The prophecy was still true, I _was_ a sacrifice that day—I walked into that knowing full well what would happen to me.” He paused, frowning. “The only reason I _am_ alive is because a _different_ set of gods had _different_ plans for me.”

Well, that was a bleak thought. Even now, his life wasn’t his. It was Leucothea’s, it was Achelois’, it was Abeona’s. He’d had nothing to do with it. He’d made the choice to accept his fate, to accept his death, and someone _else_ had changed the outcome.

“The reason you’re alive is because they looked at you and _knew_ that you weren’t expendable. It wasn’t for no reason, Jason. They saved you because they saw someone worth saving. Because you proved yourself to them.”

“It still wasn’t my choice.”

“But it was because of who you _are.”_

Jason sighed. Maybe he would never really feel like he had anything to do with his life. Maybe it would always be like this, some prophecy or quest or god pulling him along to the next thing, like he’s a character in a tragic play.

He tried to pull back the twisting, complicated feelings that filled him at that with his old Roman discipline, but he didn’t _feel_ all that Roman anymore.

“It’s okay if you don’t believe me,” Piper told him. “It doesn’t make it less true.”

He found himself wanting to believe her, though. And maybe that was enough for now.

He saw Percy, and Frank, and Annabeth, and Reyna, and Hazel. He went back to Camp Jupiter, with eyes that recognized it. Reyna bought him a New Rome brownie. There was hesitant, tentative affection. Not-quite-teary-but-close exchanged looks. 

They told him what the last eight years had been like. The nice parts, at least. Reyna showed him a picture of her and Nyssa at their house, Percy nearly knocked a glass over when gesturing as he told a story, Frank updated him on Camp Jupiter’s newest recruits.

It all felt real, at least, but it felt so strange. Stranger still that the next week, Jason went back to work, back to his job that some other iteration of himself had gone to school for.

Maybe the strange disconnect he’d felt these last eight years would fade in and out. Maybe it would always be a little less _tangible._ Maybe he would need to find a way to get used to his life again. He had to reconcile who he’d been with who he was, and who he’d remembered. It felt like he was piecing together parts of him that he was barely able to name or grasp.

Jason didn’t know how to _exist_ as himself anymore. The realization hit him softly, in a quiet moment alone. Maybe it wouldn’t always be like this—but here, now, Jason didn’t know how to get back what he’d lost. It was complicated, it turned out, trying to piece together the puzzle of who you were when so many of the pieces had been warped, painted over, lost and found and lost and found and lost.

He was thinking a lot about choices. Ones he made, ones he didn’t, ones that were made for him.

He was thinking a lot about what that all meant for him now. Whether he was where he wanted to be—if he really knew what he wanted at all.

He was happy, he thought. He did care about his job, and he didn’t regret grad school. He liked his apartment, he was _so fucking relieved_ to have his memories and his friends back. He was just trying to really decide if, when he gave himself the choice, he’d still choose _this._

Meanwhile, Nico hadn’t come home.

\---

Well, he couldn’t stay in the Underworld forever, but honestly, he wasn’t ready to head back to the Bay Area either. He wouldn’t be able to breathe there. He emailed his professors to let them know and sent in some of the last of his assignments, but honestly, at this point in the semester, he’d have to actively try to fail. He sent a message to Leo to tell him, too, but he didn’t wait for an answer. If Leo was mad at him, well, let him be. Nico needed more _time._

He needed—

He needed _something._ Time, space, isolation.

He didn’t know. He couldn’t bring himself to face it.

He wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: that when he went home, Jason would be gone again, or that he’d still be there waiting. No matter what, Nico was scared, and he didn’t really know how to live with that fear. It was suffocating.

Which was how he wound up back _here._

Will offered a small smile, stepping aside without saying anything.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” Nico mumbled, ducking his head as he walked in.

“Yeah, two visits back to back after two years of radio silence,” Will said brightly. “Leo called. Said you might be, uh, _hiding.”_

“I’m not—” Nico huffed. “I’m gonna kill Leo.”

Will laughed. “Y’know, he had something similar to say about you.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Leo exaggerates.”

“You’re perfect for each other.”

At that, Nico shot Will a dark look.

Will smiled, undeterred. Nico half-wished he had something he could just, like, throw at him.

Their staring contest didn’t last very long. Nico didn’t have it in him, and he knew from experience just how long Will was going to be able to keep it up without getting intimidated or discouraged. Feeling a prickling in his chest, Nico just rolled his eyes and headed over to Will’s couch, collapsing onto it.

Wordlessly, Will headed to the kitchen. Nico could hear him moving around, humming to himself. A few minutes later, he came out with two mugs of hot chocolate. He put them gently on the coffee table, sitting down and turning fully to face Nico.

Nico kept his eyes on the floor, slouching forward.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Will asked.

Nico took a breath. He barely wanted to _think_ about it. “Not particularly.”

“Come on, dude,” Will replied. “You wouldn’t have come _here_ if you didn’t.”

“Look, it’s just—I can’t. It doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t get what’s going on with you, and I’m not going to be able to help if you don’t explain it to me,” Will said. Deliberate, pointed patience in his tone.

It was really a _marvel_ how Will managed to sound so reasonable and approachable, while simultaneously making Nico desperately want to hit him with a pillow.

“It’s nothing, okay? I just need time.”

Which was what he was going to _keep repeating_ to himself until it felt like it was really true.

_Time was going to fix it right? He just needed time. To get used to this. To… get over his anger and his fear and frustration and grief. Time would make it easier._

Yeah, it would just take time. Maybe another fucking eight years.

Will sighed. It was a familiar sound.

“Nico, don’t get mad—” Will started.

“Always a stellar opening, Solace.”

“—but shouldn’t it be over now? I mean, you guys figured it out right? He’s alive, he’s back, what’s the problem?”

Nico gestured widely. “The whole _fucking_ thing is the problem!”

“I don’t follow,” Will said.

Was Nico ever going to find the right words to explain it? Why he was so scared, why he couldn’t deal with this? Why Jason loving him back felt like such a _nightmare?_

It was hard to wrap his mind around how to express it. There was so much tangled in his chest—he didn’t know where to start.

Well. There was one place he could start, he supposed.

_Time._ That was the fucking problem.

“ _Years,_ Will. It’s been _years._ I accepted that this was over a long time ago—I can’t—don’t know how—”

_I don’t know how to go back, to believing in something better. I don’t know how to find it in me to feel hope, or love, or relief. All I fucking have is dread._

“It’s too much,” was what Nico ended up getting out, his voice shaky and strained.

Will’s expression softened into something like pity and Nico bristled.

“Don’t—don’t look at me like that. It’s not—I’m not—” _Not what? Not broken? Look at yourself, Nico, maybe you are._

Nico’s stomach turned and he clamped his mouth shut.

Will put his hands up. “Don’t get defensive. I’m sympathizing.”

Nico sighed through his nose, pulling his arms around himself protectively.

“Look, I know that feelings are hard for you, I understand that,” Will said. “I’ve known you a while now, I think I’ve caught on.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “How perceptive of you,” he muttered, irritated.

“Yeah, snark as a defense mechanism, exactly,” Will said.

Nico shot him a dark look. Will, the asshole, _smiled._ Nico had the small impulse to just knock over the hot chocolate, like a cat. Maybe he could distract Will by staining the nice carpet.

“But, you know, Nico, you’re a _lot_ better at letting people in than you used to be,” Will said, softening his tone. “You’re here after all, aren’t you? Instead of isolating, you reached out. If you can let _me_ in, now, even as you’re trying to run away, I’m sure—”

“Well, I’m never worried _you’ll_ kill yourself,” Nico bit out, frustrated.

Will’s words died in the air and his eyes widened. Nico felt his throat close up, his skin getting clammy as he realized what he said. He really hadn’t meant to say that—it just came out.

Fuck, he really didn’t want to talk about this.

“Wait, no—” he started, shaking his head. “I didn’t—”

“No, hold on, you obviously meant it,” Will said.

Nico scrubbed a hand down his face. Maybe he should’ve just stayed in the Underworld after all.

“I didn’t mean to _say_ it,” he muttered.

Will sighed. “Let’s just… Take a breath, yeah?” 

Nico pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. He kind of wanted to curl up, make himself small enough that he could just vanish into thin air instead of _being here, having this conversation._

“He sacrificed himself, and he doesn’t regret it,” Nico murmured, casting his gaze at the floor in front of him. “He’d do it again.”

“Things are _different_ now,” Will said gently. “The great prophecies of our generation are _over._ We’re not in that kind of danger anymore.”

“Knowing Jason, he’ll find it anyway,” Nico replied, bitterness seeping in.

“Nico, you’re not being very fair.”

“I don’t care! None of this was _fucking_ fair!”

“You’re right, it wasn’t,” Will said, his tone a little harder than before. “And it’s not just _you_ that it wasn’t fair to.”

Nico uncurled, dropping his legs again. He crossed his arms over his chest, his face heating up. “I know that.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

“Fuck, Will, of course I do.” Nico ran a hand through his hair, frustration itching at him. “Don’t be condescending.”

“I’m just saying, I feel like you’re forgetting that it sucked for _everyone,_ ” Will said. Getting sharper. “Yeah, it wasn’t fair to you, but you know what—it wasn’t fair to Piper, either, or Leo, or hell, _me._ And it _really_ wasn’t fair to Jason. You can be mad at him, and obviously, you _are,_ but you can’t sit here and pretend like he didn’t get the worst deal out of all of us.”

“But he’s the one who made the choice,” Nico argued back.

“Oh my god, no he _didn’t,”_ Will said. “You really think _any_ of us have any real say? We’re demigods, we don’t get that luxury.”

“So, what, none of our choices matter at all? That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Will sighed heavily. He brought his index finger up to the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. Just… Nico, you gotta go easy on Jason. He was put in an impossible position. And yeah, okay, you don’t have to like the call he made. You don’t even have to be okay with it. But you can at least _understand_ it. He was sixteen, man. He never should’ve been in the position to sacrifice himself in the first place.”

Nico glared. He didn’t really appreciate the lecture on something he already knew _plenty_ about. He knew that demigods pulled the short straw in life. He knew that it was never fair that Jason kept being pulled into prophecies, like it was always his fate to die a tragic hero’s death. He _knew._

Will’s expression softened. “I know this isn’t news to you,” he said. “I’m just reminding you.”

Nico huffed. “I can’t—I don’t want to hate him for it. I know it must’ve… It must’ve been awful for him. I don’t _want_ to blame him.”

“So don’t.”

“Like it’s that easy.”

Will let out a breath and offered a slightly tired smile. “Do you think it was _easy_ for me to forgive you, after everything you put yourself through?”

Nico shot him an unimpressed look. “I mean. Kinda.”

Will laughed. “Okay, so maybe forgiveness comes a little easier to me than to you. But my point stands, alright? If you don’t want to be mad at him, if you _want_ to be able to have him in your life again, _he’s here,_ he’s back, and you can try to forgive him.”

Nico dropped his head back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. He didn’t disagree—and maybe it _should’ve_ been able to be that easy. Maybe Will was right, that you could just _decide_ that you were going to forgive someone, crack open your ribcage and let them back in, but how was Nico supposed to feel safe with that?

If he forgave and forgot, if he moved forward, if he let himself _care_ as deeply as he always had, he’d just be opening himself up to more hurt.

Nico stuck around a while longer, but Will didn’t press him to talk about it anymore. They kept things relatively shallow— _how’s school, how’s work, how’s the weather._ It was comfortingly boring in how low-stakes it all was.

And lingering in the back of Nico’s mind was that anger and that fear and that dread. Even if he managed to forgive Jason, let go of the anger, he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop being terrified of losing him again.

Losing Jason nearly killed him. That was the truth. It still _could_ kill him. And how was he supposed to live with that?

It was easier to be angry.

He also knew, though, that no matter how much he tried to shut himself off, no matter how hard to tried to close Jason out and keep him at arm-length, it was kind of too late. It wasn’t like staying away from Jason had ever made him _less_ in love with him.

No matter what, he was too vulnerable. With Jason, maybe he would always be walking a tightrope, constantly on the verge of falling.

\---

“How did you do it?”

The question wasn’t completely out of nowhere, but Leo still looked caught off guard by it.

“What?” he said, tone flat.

They’d been talking about the prophecy, that time on the Argo II. Sort of half-reminiscing about it, in a hesitant, careful way. Jason got the impression that Leo wanted to keep things light. Maybe that he was trying to dodge all the baggage. Reyna and Piper had been more than okay with talking about how much they’d missed him, how hard it had been, but Leo had been putting up a front. Which was fine, it was fine, Jason wasn’t going to make him talk about _that…_

But—

“I mean, how did you… go against the prophecy like that?” he asked, not quite looking Leo in the eye.

Leo was quiet for a moment, but then Jason caught him flash a grin out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean? I’m just _that good,_ baby!” Leo said, with bright false confidence.

Jason looked down at his hands, frowning a little. “Seriously, man, how did you, like, believe you could do it? How did you trust that you could beat the prophecy?”

“Are you good, dude?” Leo asked. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know, it just never would’ve occurred to me to _try,”_ he replied. “How did you _know_ you could do it? How did you know it was even possible?”

Leo let out a small laugh, and it actually sounded sincere. Like he dropped the bravado.

“Look, I—I _didn’t,”_ he replied. “I had no fucking clue if it was going to work—that was why I didn’t _tell_ any of you. It was a hell of a risk. I was terrified I was gonna fail.”

Jason leaned back heavily. “I was just gonna accept it,” he said. “I was planning on being the one to die, and I was just gonna accept it.”

“Yeah, I _know,_ that’s why I had to make sure it was me,” Leo replied.

“You’re really something else.”

“I’ve been told.” Leo angled himself to meet Jason’s eyes, brow furrowed. “Seriously, what’s up, why are you bringing this up now?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said with a sigh. “Just… thinking, I guess.”

“Look at it this way—you get another chance now, right?” Leo replied. “When the gods and shit tried to run your life before, tried to tell you that you had to die for them, you took it all heroically. Now you get the chance to refuse to do that again.”

“I guess there’s that,” Jason replied with a slight smile.

“I’m serious. It’s freeing—you just get to say fuck fate, fuck prophecies, it’s _your_ life.”

“You sound like a life coach.”

Leo shoved Jason’s shoulder. “Well, hey, you sounded like you needed one. You’re _welcome.”_

Jason put his hands on his lap. Changed his mind. Put them on either side, resting on the chair. Changed his mind. Crossed his arms. No. Folded them back in his lap.

Did he used to know what to do with his hands? He was pretty sure he’d never spent this long thinking about them in his life, but now they were consuming his thoughts.

He was doing this wrong. He was sure of it. 

The room was small. It seemed like it was supposed to be cozy—a plant in the corner, warmly lit lamps by the chairs—but Jason found it suffocating.

“Jason,” a woman called to him from one of the doors. Jason hadn’t noticed it open.

She was smiling at him. She moved to the side to invite him in.

He steeled himself.

“Thank you,” he said quietly as he walked past her.

Her office was surprisingly nondescript. A simple desk and couch. Jason hesitated for a breath before taking a seat on the couch, right at the edge with stiff posture, like he was getting ready to flee at a moment’s notice. 

The woman took a seat at the desk chair, twisting it around and leaning forward with an encouraging smile. “I’m Steph. Or Doctor Carter, whichever you prefer.”

There was no way Jason would call her by her first name.

“Full disclosure that I do know who you are,” Doctor Carter said. “I’m sure this won’t surprise you. Your return was pretty major news in New Rome.”

Jason let out a soft, uncomfortable laugh. He supposed it would always be asking too much to have any sense of anonymity out here.

“Now, this isn’t to say that I know _you,”_ she went on. “But I am familiar with your situation.” She paused. “It certainly must be difficult to return after all this time.”

Jason looked down at his palms. “You could say that.”

“And what would you say?”

He took a breath. He didn’t really _know._

“It’s been weird,” he said slowly. “But not as weird as people think?”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s like—I haven’t been _me_ these past eight years,” he tried to explain. He ran a hand over his hair, finding he was still a little surprised by its length. “So it doesn’t feel like this major _return._ It feels more like… I don’t know, time travel.”

“Can you elaborate on why it hasn’t felt like you?” she asked.

He sighed. “I didn’t know who I was. I was just… existing. I don’t know. It was like someone else was in my place, trying to be me but not sure how.”

“And how about now?”

“Now?”

“Do you feel like yourself?”

“Maybe? I’m not really sure.” Jason glanced up at the ceiling. He wondered how many seconds were in an hour. “I think I feel more like several versions of myself stapled together.”

“It sounds like you’re having trouble connecting to yourself.”

“Well… yeah.”

Talking about himself was… _exhausting._

Maybe it would get easier. It didn’t seem like the worst idea, therapy. Jason was self-aware enough to admit that he would probably really benefit from it. But it was so _draining._ After just the one session, he felt a little bit lighter, but he also had an urge to quit and deny that he ever needed to talk about himself again.

He wasn’t going to quit, but the temptation was there.

In any case, he was tired, and he needed some space and some quiet.

He wandered away from New Rome, ending up on Temple Hill.

Making a large arc to avoid his father’s temple.

He should really revisit all those temples he promised to build all those years ago. Who knew if he’d angered any gods for making them wait so long? Presumably, the goddesses that had saved him would understand why he hadn’t gotten around to it—what with having amnesia and being in Colorado—but it was entirely possible that there were other minor gods that would be a lot less understanding about the whole deal.

He was sure he’d be able to find his old notebooks somewhere… Or if he couldn’t, he really needed to get started soon, so he could make up for the lost time and redo all those sketches.

He was lingering by Neptune’s temple, thinking about what he could remember of those notes, thinking about Kymopoleia in particular, when he heard a voice beside him.

“Hello there, Jason.”

He started at the sound, turning quickly.

He half-recognized her.

A tall, beautiful woman, with long off-white hair and deep blue eyes. Her hair looked like waves in the breeze.

He remembered her from those fake memories, though he couldn’t quite place her in them. It was more of a feeling.

It took a moment of staring at her to place her in his real memories.

“Leucothea,” he greeted, bowing.

“I think we’re quite past those formalities,” she said warmly, offering an amused smile.

“Um,” Jason started. The idea of dropping formalities with a goddess felt deeply uncomfortable. “Uh, well, sure.”

“I’m glad to see you here,” she said.

“Oh—well, um, I was just thinking about the temples I didn’t get the chance to build, so, you know, I apologize for the delay—”

“That’s not quite what I meant,” she interjected. Her amusement seemed to grow.

“Oh.” Stopped short, Jason wasn’t really sure what to say. Asking her directly what she was doing here seemed a little rude, right?

Honestly, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what the protocol was for this.

“I meant,” she continued kindly, “that I’m glad to see you _here._ Returned home, yourself again.”

“Oh—right. Um. Thank you.” Which suddenly reminded Jason that, really, he _should’ve_ started by thanking her. On instinct, he bowed again. “And, um, thank you for saving my life.”

She let out a soft, musical laugh.

“You can thank me by trying to keep it from needing to happen again.”

Leucothea reached over, touching Jason’s hair with affection.

Jason stilled, surprised.

“And Jason Grace, my dear,” she said, her voice like gentle waves. “I hope there isn’t a next time—but if there is, you are _allowed_ to pray for yourself, too.”

He blinked up at her. The few inches of height she had on him felt more noticeable.

“I know,” he replied.

She smiled a little. “Do you? Then I wonder why it never seemed to have occurred to you before.”

“I wasn’t—” he started, before cutting himself off. “There wasn’t… a point to it. I didn’t think, anyway. I was supposed to die.”

Leucothea’s eyes softened, something sad in their depths. “Oh, Jason. There is no _supposed to.”_

“It was—I mean, it was a prophecy, right? There’s no… escaping fate, or whatever.”

“Fate is not so straightforward as that,” Leucothea replied. “Clearly, we all have some power over it. We just have to see the strings at our fingertips.”

The strings at his fingertips.

He’d have to look for them.

Piper was the one who told him when Nico was back in town.

He’d half-expected to hear the news from Leo, really, but Piper was apparently passing on the information from Will.

_(“All Will told me was that Nico was staying with him, and then he was ready to head home,” Piper said on the phone. “He didn’t know much about… what Nico was feeling.”_

_Piper talked carefully, like she was trying to gauge just how much of the situation she was supposed to know about._

_Jason was honestly a little surprised at how much she seemed to be aware of._

_“Thanks for letting me know, Pipes,” Jason said. “Maybe I’ll, uh… go say hi?”_

_“I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”)_

As he approached Nico and Leo’s place, though, it suddenly seemed like a _really, really_ bad idea.

But he steeled himself and knocked anyway.

When Leo answered the door, he didn’t look surprised to see Jason. He did, however, look like he had been desperately hoping to see anyone else. Which, well, wasn’t a super great sign. He only opened the door enough to lean against the frame, keeping a hand clutching the doorknob.

“Jason, man, what’s up?” Leo said. _Painfully_ forced.

“Hey, I was just…” Jason started, trying for a casual smile, like the tension wasn’t tangible. “Um. Is Nico around?”

“Well, uh—” Leo glanced behind him.

Yeah, maybe this had been a bad idea. Jason felt the fragile bit of hope that had been climbing up his chest drop again. His shoulders started to sag. He knew that Nico had wanted time, and space, but…

“I just want to talk,” Jason tried. 

“So I heard from Piper,” Leo muttered, more to himself than to Jason. He cast another glance back into the apartment before meeting Jason’s gaze.

Leo gave a strained smile. He took a step outside, closing the apartment door behind him.

Which felt pretty decisive.

“Look, Superman, you know I love you,” he said, discomfort in his voice. “You’re one of my best friends. And I’m _not_ picking sides here. But if Nico doesn’t want to talk to you, I can’t let you in. It’s his choice.”

“There aren’t any sides to pick,” Jason said. He sighed, a little frustrated. “But yeah, okay. I get it. Will you just… tell him?”

“I already did. I’ll tell him again. I’m sorry, bro.” Leo definitely _looked_ sorry.

“Right.”

“For what it’s worth, I do think he’s being a moron.” Leo took a breath. “Just… give him time, I guess.”

Time. Right.

Jason could do that.

\---

Leo didn’t slam the door when he came back in, but the way he closed it sure made it seem like he _wanted_ to.

“You’re a moron, you know that?” he announced.

Nico glowered at him. “Thanks, you’ve made yourself clear,” he replied coldly.

“He looked like a kicked puppy, and I’m having this weird experience where I’m honestly just not sure how the bro code falls on this one,” Leo went on. He sighed heavily, dropping back onto the couch next to Nico. “Like, am I yelling at you or am I yelling at him? I just don’t know. It’s weird. Nothing prepared me for this.”

“You don’t yell at anyone,” Nico replied. “Why do you need to _do_ anything? Just drop it.”

Leo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “This is so stupid.”

“ _You’re_ so stupid,” Nico muttered back.

“You should put more effort into insulting me. I’m insulted by your lack of effort.”

“Well, then, I still succeeded at insulting you, didn’t I?”

“You’re difficult.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I just want to be less involved in your telenovela at this point.”

“My _what?”_ Nico said sharply. Leo just shrugged at his slightly offended tone. “Look, just _be_ less involved then, you don’t have to lecture me or try and fix anything. It’s _fine,_ just ignore it.”

“Well, sucks for you, but I’m your friend and I care about you,” Leo retorted.

“That sounds like your problem.”

“I’m gonna make it _your_ problem.”

Nico shot him an icy glare. “I’m moving out.”

Leo grinned. “No, you’re not.”

Nico just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking further into the couch. Pretending like he _definitely wasn’t_ sulking.

“Honestly, Nico, I just don’t understand it,” Leo said, his tone softening with sincerity.

“What’s there to not get?” Nico replied. “I can’t—I can’t _deal_ with it, alright?”

“Dude, I get that this is a lot for you, but you’ve been carrying a torch for the guy for years. _The one that got away_ shit. And he’s _right here_ now. Do something about it.”

“What if it’s not that simple?” Nico snapped. “What if I don’t want to? What if it’s not worth it?”

“I watched you hurt over him for years. It’s worth it.”

When he said it like that, it sounded so easy. Like the world could just slot into place, like feelings could be mended and offered up again, like it was _that easy_ to trust that it would be okay. That it would be better this time.

And Nico…

Deep down, he did want to believe that he wouldn’t be setting himself up to be broken again. He _did_ want this to be easy. He wanted it to be simple, like the fact that he loved Jason and Jason loved him back could be _enough._

_Couldn’t it be enough? Couldn’t it?_

Nico didn’t know how to get to the place where he could take that leap.

Maybe it should’ve been simple, maybe he should’ve been able to move forward right away, like there wasn’t a barrier holding him back.

But it wasn’t, and he couldn’t.

_At least for now,_ a small voice deep down told him. 

Jason didn’t try to come back. Nico had been at least a little afraid, after that first time, that Jason would make a habit out of showing up and knocking on the door, until he just went straight to flying up to Nico’s window and knocking there instead.

But it seemed like Jason was respecting that Nico wanted space, which honestly, was almost worse. At least if Jason were pestering him, he could be _annoyed_ about it.

Instead, he was just alone in his own complicated mess, and he had to sort through.

All this while he was returning to classes for the last couple weeks, getting ready to graduate and figure out whatever was supposed to come next.

One day at a time, he got used to the uncertainty.

In truth, Nico was _deeply_ tempted to skip the engagement party altogether. Finals were coming up anyway, so it’s not like he didn’t have an excuse he could use.

That wasn’t why he wanted to skip, though. He was skating through the end of the semester, most of his papers turned in early and his tests all studied for. Graduation was going to come and go without much excitement, really.

No, Nico wanted to avoid all the _people._ It was Percy and Annabeth, so he had already been pretty worried they would invite the entirety of Camp Half-Blood and New Rome and everyone would have to pile into one of the event rooms at Camp Jupiter. Percy had assured him that they just wanted close friends and family, for this one—

_The wedding will already be big enough, this one is just for us,_ Percy had told him.

Which… Well, it made it worse.

At least if there was going to be a crowd, Nico would have places to hide.

_Just for us_ meant a handful of people that included Jason.

Jason, who Nico hadn’t seen since…

Well. Since.

“I could fake sick,” Nico muttered to Leo, right as they shadowtraveled into New Rome.

“You could suck it up,” Leo offered back brightly, clapping a hand on Nico’s shoulder.

“I could suck it up,” Nico agreed with a sigh.

“That’s the spirit!”

The party itself wasn’t _quite_ as painful as it could’ve been. Annabeth and Percy had rented out an event room at a nice restaurant, with good food and an open bar. They were both so excited and talkative that it was hard for even Nico to not feed off of some of their energy.

There were a couple sappy toasts, Percy gave a speech, Frank cried.

Nico could feel how much Jason kept staring at him, but it was _fine._ It was fine, and Nico was definitely not deliberately avoiding his gaze and strongly considering shadowtraveling back home the second he could sneak away.

Hazel and Leo had both told him he “wasn’t allowed” to do that, anyway.

He smiled through the toasts, and congratulated Annabeth, and let Percy throw an arm over his shoulders and ramble about how far they’d all come and how happy he was that they’d all made it here. Really, it was nice. It was nice.

When the party reached the loudly-reminiscing-and-telling-old-stories-everyone-knew phase, Nico slipped out onto the balcony for some air. For one thing, most of those stories were on the Argo II, and Nico could only hear them so many times before he started getting motion sickness by proxy.

He leaned out over the balcony, sighing. The cool air was a relief—he hadn’t quite noticed how stifling that crowded room had gotten, with everyone so energetic and talkative.

Maybe it was all the reminiscing that was making him melancholy. Or maybe it was the disconnect he felt, how everyone seemed to fit right back into their space, how everything seemed so _normal,_ and it felt like he was the only one untethered.

It was strange, feeling this lost when everyone seemed so self-assured.

Nico wished he knew how to feel.

“Hiding?”

He stiffened.

“Jason,” he greeted. More curt than he meant to be, but _Styx,_ he was tense.

He knew he couldn’t avoid Jason forever. He didn’t even _want_ to avoid Jason forever, it just seemed like the easy way out.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Jason said. He settled next to Nico, leaning on the balcony.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nico could see Jason turn to look at him before gazing out at the view.

It was dark. Too many stars. Nico felt a little helpless.

“Mm.”

“I just hadn’t gotten the chance to say hi to you yet, so,” Jason went on. His voice was a forced kind of light.

“Right.”

“So how have you been?” he asked. Conversationally.

Gods, it was painful.

“Y’know. Fine.”

“Descriptive.”

“Mm.”

“You’re not making this easy.”

“Yeah, well.”

Jason let out a soft sigh into the night air. Nico felt his skin itch.

“Come on, what’s it going to take for you to talk to me?” Jason said tiredly.

“I don’t think there’s anything to say,” Nico replied.

“Well, that’s just not true.”

Nico wasn’t sure he could take this. The temptation to shadowtravel away was getting stronger with each passing second. “You said what you needed to say. I let you. I don’t think there’s anything else.”

“So, what, that’s it?” Jason replied. He turned fully, and Nico could feel his gaze burning. “After everything, this is where you want to leave it?”

“What do you want me to say?” Nico said. He curled in on himself, avoiding eye contact.

“I just want you to talk to me, Nico,” Jason said, his voice quiet. “We were _friends._ I miss that. I miss us.”

Nico’s jaw tightened. He _really_ wished Jason wouldn’t say things like that.

He let out a short sigh.

“Are we ever going to be okay again?” Jason asked.

Were they? Nico couldn’t say for sure. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to be okay. He still _loved_ Jason. He just couldn’t deal with the tangled, tired mess of emotions. Nico had never had an easy time forgiving and forgetting. The hurt clung to him like salt from seawater, itching at his skin.

He'd been _trying._ He’d keep trying.

“I don’t know, Jason,” he said.

“I can’t accept that.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Tell me what to do. Tell me how I can make this better.”

Nico winced a little. That was so like him, so like Jason to take it upon himself to try and fix everything, so like him to accept fault and face it head on, without hesitation. It was one of a long list of reasons why Nico loved him.

He managed to force himself to turn to face Jason, meeting his gaze for just a moment before looking up at the stars.

“I’m not… mad at you,” he managed to get out.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Nico stifled a sigh. It was fair, because trying to say he hadn’t been mad wouldn’t be the full truth. He had been—he’d been furious, for years. It had dulled into a resentment—a bitter feeling when you know nothing will ever come from it. But then Jason was back, and so was the anger, because it had never _gone_ anywhere.

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” he amended.

“So tell me how to help.”

“It doesn’t… work like that.” Nico tried desperately to keep himself steady. He twisted the ring around his finger, looked back down at his hands. “I’m _trying_ to not be mad at you.”

Jason took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said.

Nico glanced back up, meeting his gaze again, holding it. His expression was opaque. Nico had no idea what was going through his mind.

“Okay?” he responded tentatively.

“You know where I stand,” Jason said simply.

Well, he hadn’t really known for certain, but he did now.

“Oh,” was all Nico could really get out.

Jason looked back out at the view. Nico could feel the space between then deep in his chest. “I waited eight years, too. I know it’s not… the same. I didn’t—well, it wasn’t like how it was for you. But… Even when I didn’t remember, I loved you. And I waited.” Jason’s gaze connected with Nico’s with intensity. “I’ll keep waiting. Another eight years, if that’s what it takes. That’s what you’re worth to me, Nico.”

Nico opened his mouth, but he was at a loss for words. He stared at Jason for a few frozen moments, unsteady. The world around them felt muted.

The moment passed and Jason offered a small smile and a shrug, like _what can you do._

And then he slipped back inside, leaving Nico alone on the balcony.

They didn’t talk again for the rest of the party. And after that, Nico found that instead of feeling Jason watching him, his own gaze kept getting drawn to Jason.

He wasn’t sure exactly what the shift was, but Nico felt like something was different. Or maybe it had been changing the whole time and he hadn’t noticed.

But now… Nico couldn’t make himself go back to avoiding glancing Jason’s way. He didn’t want to.

His eyes were drawn to Jason—laughing, and smiling, and _there._

He let his gaze linger. Jason looked so… so…

_Beautiful_ was the word that kept lurking in the background, but Nico wasn’t letting himself dwell on that. One thing at a time.

Jason looked… steady, maybe. Older, and together, and present. He looked like the air fit right around him, like he had a place and he knew where it was.

Nico, for a moment, let a spark of hope into his chest, without any kneejerk reaction of fear. Maybe Jason really was… staying. Maybe he really was done playing hero in a grander story none of them had ever asked to be a part of. Maybe he was done living for what the world needed from him.

Maybe he was staying. Maybe…

And maybe that could mean that Nico could stick around, too.

If only to be there to see it.

\---

On one of Jason’s days off, there was a knock on his door.

It had been an otherwise uneventful week—work, therapy, Thalia calling to check in. It was all pretty mundane. Comforting, really, in how settled it was.

Jason didn’t really think anything of the knock on his door—he’d gotten a few surprise visitors these past few weeks, after all. Percy had shown up more than once—Frank, too. Piper, even, when she’d had something to do in New Rome. It seemed that when you were dead for eight years and suddenly came back, people were inclined to check in on you.

So he went to the door, not particularly shocked by the fact that someone was there—

_Maybe Frank has made some progress with Camp Jupiter, he was going to revisit the idea of some changes, maybe he had news—_

When Jason opened the door, any thoughts he’d been having vanished from his mind.

He blinked, stilling in surprise.

Nico was standing on the other side of the threshold, head ducked a little, holding two cups from the coffeeshop down the street.

“Oh,” Jason said, not sure how his voice sounded. “Nico.”

Nico shrank a little, looking down at the ground. Jason wondered if he sounded cold, or if Nico was just nervous.

He wasn’t really sure how to react. He and Nico hadn’t really… Well, they hadn’t talked all that much. Hardly at all, really, certainly not without at least Leo or Hazel in the vicinity.

Not since—

“Can I come in?” Nico said, voice small.

That finally broke Jason from his blank-faced staring. “Oh, right, yeah, of course,” he said quickly, opening the door wider and moving aside.

Nico shot him a faint, nervous smile as he walked in.

“Sorry I didn’t, uh…” Nico cleared his throat. “If this is a bad time—”

“It’s not,” Jason said quickly. “I’m, um, totally free right now, uh. It’s… my day off, so.”

“Oh. Cool.”

Nico sounded borderline disappointed at that, like he’d come here half-hoping to be turned away.

Jason tried not to take it personally. He knew what it looked like when Nico was afraid but trying anyway.

Nico set the cups down on the table, hesitantly taking a seat. He picked at the lid of his cup with his fingernail, looking deeply uncomfortable and tense. Jason took his lead, sitting down across from him.

There were a few long moments of silence, Jason studying Nico’s face. The tension around his lips, his slightly furrowed brow, his downcast eyes.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Jason tried, keeping his voice soft.

“Mhm,” Nico replied. He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I—I guess… I was thinking maybe we could talk.”

Jason’s fingertips twitched against his cup.

“Sure,” he replied, as neutral as possible. “What about?”

Nico shot him a slightly pained look.

Then he stared back at the table and cleared his throat. “So, um. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Jason replied. Honestly, he had been. Things were… pretty okay. “Work has been good. Catching up with everyone has been… nice.”

“So you’re still going to work?” Nico asked in a mild tone. Still gluing his gaze to the table. His fingers had begun twitching slightly, like he wanted to drum them nervously against the surface.

“Are you still going to class?” Jason asked back.

Nico’s fingers started drumming.

“Well, uh… No. Semester’s over, I graduated.”

“Congratulations, Nico,” Jason said warmly. “That’s great.”

Nico cleared his throat again. “Yeah, uh, thanks. I didn’t—well. Didn’t really think it would get this far.”

“Yeah, leading mundane lives, right? Who would’ve guessed?”

Nico made a humming noise in agreement. He flexed his hand like he just noticed that he’d been fidgeting and pulled it back, touching his fingertips lightly to his cup.

“This is weird, I’m sorry,” Nico muttered.

Jason wished Nico would just look him in the eye.

“It really doesn’t have to be,” Jason replied.

Nico let out a soft sigh. “I don’t mean to—um. Look, I just… We both know I didn’t come here to make small talk.”

Jason felt his pulse speed up. He leaned back in his seat, more guarded than before. Nico’s tone was almost grim. Honestly, Jason wasn’t particularly stoked about the idea of getting rejected _again._ He had no intention of trying to pressure Nico into accepting his feelings, but he also had no intention of trying to get over Nico.

He didn’t want to make Nico uncomfortable. He _also_ didn’t want to try and suppress everything he felt. And he really didn’t want to functionally lie and pretend like he wasn’t in love with Nico. If Nico never wanted him—well, it would _sting._ It had already stung. But at least Jason was being honest with them both, and he didn’t want to—

“Listen, Nico,” Jason started, his voice low. “You don’t have to… You know where I stand. I’m not going to make it your problem, but I don’t know what you want me to do—”

“I was wondering,” Nico blurted out, cutting him off, “if you’d, um—if you’d want… to, I don’t know, get coffee. Sometime. With me.”

Jason stilled. Suddenly, he’d completely lost track of what was happening.

“We’re having coffee now,” was what he ended up saying.

Nico shot him a look. “Don’t—okay, don’t make this… don’t make this a _thing.”_

Jason stared. “Are you—are you asking me on a date?”

Nico practically _winced._

“I—yes. Um. That is, ah, that is what I am doing.” Nico’s voice was stilted and awkward, like each word was uncomfortable on his tongue.

“Uh—” Jason… was not expecting that.

The outlets in the room sparked and Nico jumped at the sound.

“Sorry about that,” Jason said faintly.

“It’s fine if you don’t—”

“I do,” Jason said quickly, still feeling like he was trying to catch up. “I do, I’m just… surprised.”

Finally, Nico shot him the slightest smile.

“Come on, you can’t be _that_ surprised,” he said, his voice softly teasing.

Jason let out a distant breath of laughter.

He was, though. He _was_ that surprised. He realized, in that moment, that despite the fact that he hadn’t doubted for a second that Nico had feelings for him, he had _really_ doubted that those feelings would ever be enough. In the back of his mind, Jason had resigned himself to being alone. He’d attached himself to some quiet acceptance that Nico, no matter what either of them _felt,_ would never _want_ him.

Which was why he was a little breathless now, staring at Nico, half-afraid to blink.

His heart was doing some complicated twists, pressing against his ribcage painfully.

For all his talk of being willing to wait, he realized that deep down, he believed he’d be waiting forever.

“What changed?” Jason finally asked, softly, a little unsure.

Nico met his gaze and Jason held his breath.

“I’ve missed trusting you, Jason,” Nico said with quiet honesty.

And _that—_

Well, it was sort of enough to break Jason’s heart and stitch it back together.

“I’ve missed that, too,” Jason replied.

Nico cleared his throat. “So, yeah, I… I want to try.”

“Maybe lunch, though, instead of coffee,” Jason said quickly.

Nico blinked. “What?”

“Well, because we have coffee right here.”

“Wait, you—now? You want to, um… You want to have that date _now?”_

“I mean, I’m free.”

Nico let out a short, nervous laugh. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and he had this shy, hopeful look in his eyes. Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone more.

They walked from Jason’s place, Jason hyperaware of the distance between them the whole while. It felt so carefully constructed, like Nico must’ve measured the space down to the inch. There was no way for their arms to even brush by accident. Like they were magnets held together, repelling one another.

It was a strange kind of tension, one Jason wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with.

Suddenly, right across from the coffeeshop they’d met the first time, Nico stopped in his tracks.

Jason stopped just a step in front of him, turning back, questioning.

“This was where I saw you,” Nico said, voice a little faint. “Just a glance, really—your reflection in the window.”

Jason stepped slightly closer, careful with his movements.

“It was raining. Honestly, it would’ve been so easy to miss it.” Nico sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I tried to tell myself I was crazy. That it _had_ to be in my head.”

“I think I remember that day.”

Nico looked over at him, meeting his gaze. He smiled. “It still feels sort of surreal. That you’re here.”

Jason knew the feeling. It felt pretty surreal that Nico was looking at him like that, with eyes that soft.

There had been so many things that could’ve stopped them from reaching this moment. It was surreal to think about all the ways they could’ve missed each other, all the crucial, fragile coincidences and circumstances that had to line up.

He remembered what Piper and Leo had to say about fate, but honestly, right then, Jason thought maybe fate wasn’t always something to fight against.

It was sort of a wonder that any of this existed. That he and Nico were _here,_ now.

For a moment, he let himself picture some other life, where the world had been kinder to them both. Where after the prophecy, they were safe. He imagined what could have been. Maybe they would’ve been clumsy—unsure of themselves. Maybe Jason still would’ve tried to ignore his feelings, tried to push them away. Maybe Nico still would’ve been afraid.

But Jason could’ve _stayed._ And maybe—maybe it wouldn’t have mattered, that they were afraid, that they were holding back. Maybe Jason still would’ve tried to make it work with Piper, and Nico still would’ve tried to make it work with Will, but maybe… Maybe, eventually, after time passed and they spent more quiet moments together, maybe something could’ve changed.

Jason pictured it—a version of events where Piper had gone to look for Leo and Jason had stayed in Camp Half-Blood to wait and see if Leo came back on his own. A version of events where he and Piper had parted ways without trying to force a love built on someone else’s lies. A version of events where Jason was around when Will and Nico got together—

And it would’ve hurt, to see that up close and in front of him. But maybe… Maybe it could’ve been okay. Instead of trying to ignore those stubborn feelings, maybe he would’ve been forced to confront them. Maybe Nico would’ve come around to facing his.

Maybe, some late night in Cabin 13, months later… Maybe once Jason and Piper had learned how to be around each other, maybe once Nico and Will had decided they didn’t fit, maybe once Leo had come home… Maybe Jason would’ve wondered why he had been so afraid to tell Nico the truth of how he felt.

In some other world, in some other life, that was their story.

They’d lost those moments. They had chosen different paths—paths that had veered so painfully far from one another that they could’ve lost each other forever.

But they were _here._

Jason took a step closer and Nico didn’t move away.

“Is it okay if I—?” Jason asked, his hand hovering between them.

“Yeah,” Nico replied, sounding a little breathless.

Jason reached over, gently nudging Nico’s chin up with his hand. Carefully, he brushed a thumb against Nico’s lower lip, catching the way Nico’s breathing stuttered.

Jason was hyperaware of every sense. There was electricity just under his skin, the smell of cut grass and coffee around them. Nico’s eyes were captivating as ever, deep brown pinning him to the spot. He brought his other hand up, cupping the side of Nico’s neck, his thumb tracing his jawline.

“I love you,” Jason said, the words coming out before he could catch them. Before he even knew he was going to say them.

Nico’s mouth twitched, and for a moment, Jason was afraid he’d broken the moment.

“You’re so dramatic,” Nico replied, a little sheepishly, before leaning up, pressing his lips to Jason decisively. Like there was nothing left to be afraid of.

And Jason could feel the warmth from the sun, a breeze curling around them, Nico’s skin under his fingertips. Jason kissed him back, deeply, feeling like his chest was going to burst. Like he’d been holding his breath for this moment.

He could feel Nico smile into the kiss, his hand sliding around Jason’s waist to pull him closer.

Nico pulled back enough to murmur, “I love you, too.”

And for that moment, at least, the years they’d lost didn’t hurt at all. Because this?

_It had been worth waiting for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and commenting, all of the comments have meant the world to me and I do frequently go back to read them and feel all warm and fuzzy over it. I sort of started this fic by accident, but I am very glad to have gotten this far! There is still a nonzero chance of me adding just, like, a fluffy epilogue for fun, but we'll see.   
> Thank you all so very much again, and as always, you can find me @official-mermaid on Tumblr <3


	14. little moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I really love you, you know that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short epilogue, just for some soft moments.

Nico tapped a finger against the side of his iced latte, inexplicably nervous. It was a consistent thing, this nervousness, this jumpiness when it came to the anticipation. He was sitting at the same table he had that first time.

They’d gotten in the habit of doing this—getting lunch together at that same coffeeshop every Tuesday and Thursday, during Jason’s lunch breaks. It was nice to have that kind of consistency, just a completely normal routine.

It was strange, how quickly a place could become so important to you. Nico must’ve passed by this coffeeshop dozens of times, never giving it a second glance until the one day he saw Jason in the reflection through the rain.

And all of a sudden, this coffeeshop wasn’t just another place he’d pass. It was a place that mattered to him, that _meant_ something to him. The coffee wasn’t even that good, but he didn’t care. He was pretty sure it would still be his favorite coffeeshop for the rest of his life.

He was early. He was _always_ early. Half his iced coffee was already gone.

They’d been taking things slow—a glacial pace, really. There was a lot Nico had to get used to. The fact that Jason was back. How different he was now, how he was still the same as ever. How he talked more, how honest he was. The fact that Jason knew that Nico loved him. The fact that Jason had loved him back the entire time. The fact that Nico didn’t have to shut himself off, keep his distance, shove away his feelings.

It was all still so new. It still felt a little fragile, though less so every day. Nico could almost trust it lately. He thought maybe he could get used to the peace.

Someday. Someday soon, Nico would be able to trust that this wasn’t something he was always on the verge of losing. It would get easier to believe. Jason was here, Jason was _staying._

Nico could still imagine a world in which they’d had an easier path, and he sometimes wondered about all the things that had to happen to lead to _this._ Strange dominoes falling. Coincidences, twists of fate, strings connected and overlapping.

Things were good, though. They were. Even if it was hard to trust, things were _good._

“Nico?” a steady voice said.

Nico jumped, startled back into the world.

Jason winced a little. “Sorry. I really was trying not to sneak up on you.”

Nico took a breath and smiled, his heart twisting at the sight of him. He wondered if it would always feel like this. Every time Jason smiled at him, it felt like another small miracle. _Jason was here, Jason was staying._

He was still so scared to lose this. But he was also so _unbelievably_ happy to have it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Nico said. “Just lost in thought.”

Jason settled into the seat across from him. “Anything in particular?”

“Just… us, I guess,” Nico said. His gaze flickered towards the window.

“Oh?”

Nico took another breath and looked back at Jason again, warmth in his chest when he met those soft, gentle eyes. “I really love you, you know that?”

Jason smiled, warm and sweet and bright, lighting up like the stars. He always looked like he couldn’t believe his luck when Nico said that, which was just _insane._ Nico was the lucky one.

“Yeah, I know,” Jason said, reaching out to lace their hands together. He ran a thumb against Nico’s wrist gently. “I love you, too.”

Things really were _good._

Nico was happy. Still scared, still aching, still cautious. But truly and sincerely happy.

For all the pain that life had been, he supposed it made sense for there to be these kinds of wonders, too. He never would’ve believed that he could be this happy. It had seemed too far out of his reach to even hope for, and now it was at his fingertips. 

Sort of amazing, really.

_Leucothea, Achelois, Abeona, Cardea…_

Jason tapped the end of his pencil against the paper rhythmically. It really just made sense to start with them, after everything they’d done for him.

He flipped through the notebook, eyes half-glazed over as he scanned all the plans. The designs were good, but were they good enough? And which one should he get started on first? Frank had assured him that they’d all get built fast enough that it wouldn’t really matter which one he started with, but…

It was always a risk, because gods were notoriously easily offended and difficult to please. He could always ask one of them—they’d each assured him they’d always come when he asked _(which seemed a little crazy, but who was Jason to question it?)._ But then there was the question of which one he’d ask, which frankly seemed _more_ risky than just making the decision himself of which temple to build first—

Fingers snapped in front of his face and he jolted back.

“Did you hear me at all?” Nico said, smirking a little, amusement laced into his tone.

Jason blinked. Nico was half-leaning on the table, an eyebrow quirked. “Uh, I didn’t even hear you come in, when did you get here?”

Nico laughed, and Jason fell a little more in love with him again. That was happening a lot, really. When Nico smiled, when he laughed, when he rolled his eyes. Jason kept falling for him. He was pretty sure he’d be falling forever.

“About ten minutes ago,” Nico said.

“Are you kidding? You should’ve said something!” Jason replied, half-laughing himself.

“I did! And then I thought I’d just wait and see how long it took you to look up from your notebook, but honestly, I was starting to suspect I’d be waiting forever.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason admitted. He closed the notebook, putting it off to the side. “So what’s up, what are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just visit without an agenda?” Nico said. He stretched his arms over his head, slinking away from the table and half-collapsing onto the couch.

“You can,” Jason replied, narrowing his eyes. He got up from the table, nudging Nico’s shoulder until he shifted so that Jason had the space to sit down. “ _Are_ you?”

Nico lied down, relaxing his head onto Jason’s lap. Almost automatically, Jason’s hand went to thread through Nico’s hair.

Nico sighed contently, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Maybe,” he said.

“That means no. What is it?”

“Leo started a new project, and I’m pretty sure he’s determined to make sure I never sleep again,” Nico complained. He opened one eye to look up at Jason, suddenly looking a little hesitant for someone who had shown up out of the blue and stretched out on the couch like a cat. “Can I stay here for a few nights?”

Jason smiled. “Of course. Any idea what the project is?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure Leo knows. He’s just gone all mad-scientist about it and decided he needs to work on it at four in the morning.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“He’s gonna set our place on fire one of these days.”

“Well, hopefully he’s built a fire extinguisher by now.”

“That could be what _causes_ the fire,” Nico replied.

Jason laughed, brushing a thumb against Nico’s temple.

Nico blinked awake, shifting slightly to curl away from the sunlight coming in through the window.

It took him a few seconds to realize he was curling towards Jason, who was still sound asleep, facing away from him. He froze for a moment, until he remembered that _oh right, they’re dating, this is normal._

Nico shifted closer, pressing his forehead against the space between Jason’s shoulder blades and wrapping his arm over Jason’s waist, feeling his ribs move with his breath and his steady heartbeat. He was warm, and solid, and _breathing._

_This is real. This is real, and we’re here._

The past several weeks, Nico could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually spent the night at Jason’s place. Something about it felt too serious, too comfortable, like he could get used to _being_ with Jason. Which was still sort of terrifying, most of the time.

But now, in the quiet of the morning light, with Jason’s skin against his fingers, Nico thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get used to this. After everything, maybe they were allowed to settle into being _used_ to the nice moments.

It wasn’t so bad, having something to lose. It was even better to let himself believe that he wouldn’t lose it at all.

In moments like this, it really felt like nothing was about to slip through his fingers.

He started to drift back to sleep, trusting that Jason would still be there when he woke up.

Nico talked in his sleep. Small, incoherent murmurs, the occasional understandable word slipping through.

It was deeply endearing, but then again, there was very little that Nico did that Jason _didn’t_ find endearing.

Jason pulled away very slowly and carefully, shifting until he slid out from under Nico’s arm and off the bed. He held his breath, waiting, but Nico just murmured more and pulled his hand close to his chest. Jason smiled at him fondly— _gods,_ it was just so nice that he was _here._

Jason decided he’d really like to get used to this—waking up with Nico pressed against him, his breath against his shoulder.

He snuck out of the room, tiptoeing carefully until he got to the kitchen.

Jason didn’t have a ton of luxuries, just not really used to having a space that was his own, where he could just have things that made him happy. It was kind of weird, to get things just because he wanted them. There was something so simple about it. It made his life feel like _his._

So he’d bought an espresso machine. Mostly because he just _wanted_ it, though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about being able to make Nico mochas. It was possible that had been a factor in the decision.

Which he was doing now, for the first time. He hadn’t told Nico he’d bought it. He went about it methodically, wincing every time the machine made a noise and glancing back towards the bedroom, worried about waking Nico up.

When he finished, he headed quietly back to the bedroom, to find Nico awake, smiling at him warmly.

“Good morning,” Nico said, sleep still heavy in his voice.

Jason set the mocha on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to him, lacing their fingers together. Nico sleepily rubbed his thumb against Jason’s palm.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Jason said.

“Supposed to be?” Nico said with amusement.

“I’m doing the boyfriend thing, bringing you coffee in bed, you were _supposed_ to be asleep,” Jason replied, really only _mostly_ kidding.

“Sorry about that,” Nico said with a small laugh. He propped himself up on his free elbow.

Jason leaned forward, pressing his lips to Nico’s lightly.

As he pulled away, his heart stuttered in his chest at the unguarded affection in Nico’s gaze.

“So, coffee?” Nico said.

“Mocha,” Jason replied, gesturing to the mug.

Nico’s eyes widened a little, and Jason couldn’t help but grin. Nico shifted util he was sitting up, reaching for the mug and holding it close to him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, looking mildly embarrassed by him momentary excitement.

“Sure,” Jason said affectionately.

Nico took a sip, his gaze flickering back to Jason. “You made this?”

“Mhm.”

“I think I just fell more in love with you.”

Jason laughed, warm and happy. “That _was_ my ulterior motive.”

 _Styx,_ it was so nice.

Things weren’t perfect, and they weren’t always easy, but everything was worth it for moments like these. He never knew life could feel like this, that this kind of happiness would ever be available to him. But here they were, and things were good.

He could get used to it.


End file.
